


Provoke Outrage

by Daisy_Rivers



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Love, M/M, Multi, Political Alliances, Post-Apocalypse, Resistance, Second American Revolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2018-08-22 15:38:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 67
Words: 275,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8291179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisy_Rivers/pseuds/Daisy_Rivers
Summary: A post-apocalyptic 21st-century AU Peggy-centric riff on "Peggy saves the baby."When her parents are arrested, Peggy grabs her baby sister and flees to NYC to find Angelica and Eliza. There she meets Gilbert duMotier, Marquis de Lafayette, John Laurens, Hercules Mulligan and Alexander Hamilton, who is emerging as a leader in the Second American Revolution, an underground movement working to overthrow the evil President King.  Peggy, her sisters, and their friends must go into hiding, try to survive, and fight a guerilla war against the unjust administration.





	1. Outrun

**Author's Note:**

> Politics is everything. What if a really incompetent candidate was elected, then became incapacitated, and his evil Vice President took over? What if people were arrested or worse, and their college-age kids had to organize to save the Republic?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who have read "I Like You a Lot," this picks up two years after that ends. Alex's squad has gone underground, and the entire Movement continues to struggle. What happened during those two years will be told in flashbacks, mostly from Peggy's point of view. There will be some overlap with the last chapter of "I Like You a Lot," to make the connections clear. I hope you enjoy reading this!

“Katie’s hungry,” Peggy said to Gil, pushing her hair back with a tired hand.

Gil looked away. “We’re all hungry,” he responded briefly.

She put her hand on his arm. “Please, Gil,” she said, leaning across him to make eye contact. “Isn’t there something? She’s a little kid.”

Gil sighed and stood up. Automatically, he looked around the clearing in front of the cabin, checking for anything out of the ordinary. It was dusk, and very still. He saw nothing, heard nothing.

“You stay out here,” he said at last, and put a hand on Peggy’s shoulder as she remained where she was, scrunched down on the step, with her arms wrapped around herself in the chill air. She looked up and Gil’s eyes finally met hers. His hand tightened on her shoulder for a moment.

“I’ll ask around,” he said, then picked up his gun and walked off down a path barely visible in the brush.

She put her head down for a few minutes, letting her mind drift to a time when Katie would never have been hungry, when Gil wouldn’t have carried a gun everywhere he went, when her parents were alive.

Thinking of her parents was dangerous. She knew that if she let her mind go there, she’d break down, and then she’d be useless to them all, especially to Katie. Katie needed her. She was tired, though, and try as she might, she couldn’t push the past out of her head. Her mind reached back to that night when the Greaters – the official police of the Have Party – came knocking on the door. She and Katie had been the only ones at home with her parents; both of her older sisters were off at college, but Peggy was still in high school. Katie was the surprise baby sister, just under a year old then, keeping them all amused as she toddled around and tried to talk. Katie was everybody’s darling, with her big brown eyes and dark curls.

It was around ten o’clock on a Friday night in October when the Greaters came banging on the door. Peggy was watching TV, and Katie was asleep on the couch next to her, snuggled up in her Minnie Mouse blanket. Their mother, Catherine, was in the blue chair, folding laundry, and their father, Philip, was on the computer in the den, maybe working, or maybe researching genealogy, a hobby he loved.

Was there any way they could have known? Had they missed any warning? Everything had seemed normal, even after the election and the new Amendments. Her dad had friends among both the Haves and the Hopes, and he was fairly optimistic that things could be worked out. He had reassured Angelica and Eliza last time they were home that they should both just continue in college as they had planned. Everything was going to be all right. Thinking about it now, Peggy was sure that he had been keeping things from them, trying to protect them. Dad always treated them like fragile flowers, his precious girls who should never have any unhappiness. But surely he had no idea what was going to happen that night.

Mom answered the door, and five men in uniform shoved their way in without so much as an _Excuse me_.

“Where’s Philip Schuyler?” asked one. His uniform had more gold piping on it than the others’ did, so he would be the officer in charge. Even then, Peggy rolled her eyes at the gold decoration and love of display that the Haves seemed addicted to. She sat up straight and slid her feet into her fuzzy slippers, patting Katie, who stirred, but didn’t wake up.

“I’m Philip Schuyler,” her father said, stepping calmly into the room. “What is this about?”

“You have been charged with inciting sedition. We have orders to take you in,” said the officer.

Philip Schuyler smiled faintly. “I’m sure that’s a mistake,” he replied.

“Cuff him!” barked the officer to one of the others, and before any of them could realize what was going on, her father was handcuffed. Then all hell broke loose.

Catherine grabbed the arm of the officer and began yelling at him, Katie woke up and started to cry, another Greater clamped handcuffs on her mother, and in the midst of all that, she saw her parents look at one another and her father give a slight nod. Peggy picked up the sobbing Katie, and wrapped the Minnie Mouse blanket around her.

“Peggy,” Catherine Schuyler snapped, in a voice her daughter had never heard before. Peggy sat bolt upright, clutching Katie to her.

“ _Run!_ ” screamed her mother.

Peggy ran.

Two of the Greaters took off after her, but she knew the house and she knew the property and she was on the varsity track team at school. She pulled Katie tight against her shoulder and raced through the darkness across the wide green lawn to the woods, her long dark hair streaming out behind her. Peggy and her sisters had played in those woods their entire lives, and more recently, they had walked in those woods with boyfriends. Peggy knew every tree, and she knew exactly where she was going. After the first hundred yards or so, the ground dropped off sharply, leveled, then dropped again. On the first ledge was an overhang – not a cave exactly, but a sheltered area with a small alcove in the rocks, invisible from above. She and Katie would fit in the narrow passage easily. Now all she had to do was keep Katie quiet. As she ran, she gasped out Katie’s favorite nursery rhyme.

“One, two, buckle my shoe,” she panted, “three, four – ouch, dammit,” as she stubbed her toe on a rock. Fuzzy slippers were not the best footwear for the situation. Katie, startled out of her tears by this crazy game Peggy had invented, giggled.

“Shut the door,” Peggy continued resolutely, “five, six, pick up sticks …”

They were nearing the first drop-off. It wouldn’t be visible to the Greaters crashing through the undergrowth behind her, even with their flashlights. Peggy gave silent thanks that she had happened to be wearing gray sweatpants and a navy blue hoodie over a tee shirt. Nothing white or bright to show in the darkness. She was making hardly any noise compared to the men behind her, who were apparently running into every bush and tree. Peggy knew where each narrow path was; invisible the paths might be, but she could have found her way through these woods blindfolded. In fact, she had done exactly that quite a few times. It was a game she and Angelica and Eliza had played until Eliza had fallen and broken her wrist. After that they had given it up, but their parents had never known about the blindfolding, just that Eliza had fallen. The girls might squabble among themselves, but they always covered for each other.

As she reached the overhang, Peggy turned left. About a hundred feet further on, there was a way down to the ledge. She slowed down a little for the rocky descent, whispering now, “Nine, ten, kiss me again,” and dropping a kiss on Katie’s curls. She bumped down on her backside to level ground, then right, and maybe another thirty feet to the alcove. It was cold and dank, but exactly as she remembered it. Holding Katie tight and gasping for breath, she slipped in.

“Peggy? Hey, pay attention! You can’t sit here lost in space like that. It’s dangerous.” Gil’s voice was rough, but he was right to be upset. She knew better than to sit outside oblivious to her surroundings.

“Sorry, Gil,” she apologized, and sniffed. She swiped at her eyes. She hadn’t even realized she was crying.

“Hey, hey,” Gil said, more gently, dropping down beside her. He put his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him and let the tears run down his neck. Gil didn’t ask why she was crying. He knew.

They gave it a few minutes, then Gil kissed the top of her head. “Guess what I’ve got,” he ordered.

“Food? Did you get some food?”

Gil smiled and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small plastic bag and dangled it in front of her.

“Rice?” Peggy almost shrieked, grabbing the bag. “You got rice? Who the hell had rice? And why did they give it to you?”

Gil’s smile widened. “One of the guys in Crazy Tony’s squad had it. I have no idea how he got it, but Tony asked if anybody had any food they would give to a hungry toddler, and this is what he got.”

“I am so going to ask Grammy Nell to say a special prayer for Crazy Tony and his squad,” Peggy said, jumping up. “There must be nearly a cup here. Oh, my God, Katie can get three good meals out of this!” Tears were running down her face again. She turned to go inside, but Gil held her back.

“Hey,” he said, “we’ll take care of Katie. We won’t let anything happen to her.”

Peggy nodded and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. She knew that Gil and Alex and John and Herc would lay down their lives for Katie if necessary, just as she and Angelica and Eliza would. It was just so hard to keep going day after day, not knowing where their next meal was coming from or when they would have to move at a moment’s notice. Gil lifted her off her feet and kissed her harder, then set her down.

“I love you,” Peggy told him. “Not just because …”

“I know,” Gil said. “I love you too, _chérie_. Now go cook some rice. And tell John he’s on and to get his ass out here.”

Inside the cabin, Alex was at the kitchen table hunched over a pile of papers, credit cards, gift cards, and four or five phones. He was tapping the phones and scribbling notes to himself. Eliza was in the one comfy chair, an ugly brown velour thing that offended Herc’s esthetic standards, knitting industriously. They had managed to steal some yarn the last time they were in town, and Eliza was making hats and gloves and scarves to help get them through the winter. It was a lot easier to swipe skeins of yarn than actual clothes, and Eliza’s former hobby was, for now at least, a full time job. Herc and Angelica were on the floor with Katie, playing with blocks that John had made for her. They looked up, and Peggy put her finger over her lips as she showed them the bag of rice. They both grinned, and Herc gave her a thumbs-up. Katie continued to concentrate on her tower and Peggy went to the kitchen to cook the rice. Rice was the best thing Gil could have found. It would absorb lots of water and make a large portion. Peggy carefully measured out a quarter cup of the rice. That would be a good meal for Katie, and she’d find something to mix with it. She sealed the rest of the precious rice back in the plastic bag; they never cooked food in advance, not since that time they’d had to run and left a week’s worth of food behind because they had no way to refrigerate it. It was fall now, not summer, and they had electricity here, at least for now, but there was no way to know how long they’d be able to stay. She opened the cupboard, which was sadly bare, to try to find something to mix with the rice for Katie. They’d already eaten most of the food that they'd had  when they arrived; what was left was a meager assortment that had been left by the cabin's former occupants. There was nothing they could make a meal on, like canned tomatoes or beans. No vegetables or fruit. The only things on the shelves were odds and ends – an expired can of black olives, a few tiny jars of jam like you get in gift baskets, and a box of baking soda. Peggy looked at the three tiny jars of jam, one each of strawberry, raspberry, and apricot. Her mouth watered. She remembered slathering butter and strawberry jam on toast and thinking nothing of it. She shook her head. Not going down that rabbit hole again.

“Hey, can somebody wake John up?” she called. “Gil says he’s on.”

Angelica held out her hand to Katie. “Hey, Katie-boo, want to help me wake Uncle John up?”

“Yeah!” Katie agreed enthusiastically. “I jump on him!”

From the sounds that came from the bedroom a few minutes later, that’s exactly what she did. Springs bouncing, John yelling, Katie giggling her head off, and Angelica laughing at them both. Peggy swallowed hard. God, she loved them all so much.

“I’m awake already!” she heard John protest over more giggles, and then he staggered out into the common area with Katie on his shoulders, Angelica behind them.

“Am I really on already?” John asked, squinting. “I just went to sleep.”

“Gil said,” Peggy told him.

“Huh. You trust Gil?” Alex asked, looking up for the first time.

“Absolutely,” said Peggy.

“No way,” said John.

Alex looked at Herc, the timekeeper.

“You’re on, John,” he said.

“Well, damn,” John commented without heat. He suddenly turned to where Peggy was standing in the kitchen. “Is that food?” he asked, wide-eyed.

“Ah, shit, John, I’m sorry, it’s for Katie. Gil got some rice.”

“Where the hell did he get rice?” Alex asked.

“Somebody in Crazy Tony’s squad had it and was willing to give it to Katie.”

Alex nodded as if this didn’t surprise him. Alex still believed that there were enough good people to make all of this worthwhile. Peggy wasn’t so sure.

“Forget it,” John said, embarrassed. “I’m good.”

Peggy checked the small pot of rice. Almost done. “You know, we’ve got these little jars of jam …” she began hesitantly.

“You want one for Katie?” Alex asked.

Peggy nodded, biting her lip. Alex was in charge, and they all trusted his judgment implicitly. “Go ahead,” he said gently. “We’ll split the other ones for breakfast.”

Peggy smiled. “I’ll just give her part of it, just a teaspoonful. Just enough that she can taste that it’s sweet. She’ll think it’s a party!”

They all smiled at that. Rice and a teaspoonful of apricot jam. Katie had a feast.


	2. Sing a Song of Sixpence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Information is going to come fairly slowly, mostly through flashbacks, until we get caught up to where Peggy is now. A little more information about the relationships in this chapter.

They were going into town. Crazy Tony’s squad maintained all the vehicles – not that there were many – and they were taking the old Kia. Alex’s efforts had paid off, and he had managed to reload a couple of the Walmart gift cards by hacking some bank accounts through the unauthorized phones. He had to be careful to never use the same bank account twice, so once he broke into one, he’d reload as many gift cards as he could. Then he had to be sure to cover his tracks, since of course none of them had phone licenses. It had been harder lately, and tech genius though he was, Alex had struggled to get them some assets. He’d been just in time, since they were out of food again.

Today they were doing the humble young Deplo couples thing, since the gift cards were for Walmart. No Have would be caught dead shopping there. All of them were dressed in shabby clothes that had been mended and patched by Herc. He actually could have done a much better job, but they had to keep some beat-up clothes for these excursions. The girls wore make-up, but it was imperfectly applied, as though it was something they didn’t do very often. Alex hadn’t washed his long hair, and it was looking greasy. Gil had a ratty watch cap pulled down over his too-easily-remembered curls. He wouldn’t be talking much. His French accent, though slight, might be noticeable. John had already been to town, and after his last performance, he might be recognized. As for Herc, it was so unlikely he would convince anyone that he was married to a girl that he never did the couples thing. _So gay I can’t even think straight,_ he said. He was at the cabin with John and Angelica, taking care of Katie and staying vigilant.

Sometimes Katie went along to town, usually with Gil and Peggy, because she looked more like Peggy than she did like Eliza and they could do the cute young family thing, either Haves or Deplos. They’d have to stop taking her pretty soon, though, because she was talking quite well, and she didn’t call anybody Mommy or Daddy. Peggy had been adamant about that. Katie was going to grow up knowing that she had had a Mommy and Daddy who loved her very much, and who were in heaven now. At least that’s what she told Katie. As far as Peggy knew, Grammy Nell was the only person around who believed in heaven.

They would be visiting Grammy Nell after they shopped to be sure she had everything she needed and to pick up any cash she’d gotten them by selling things. Peggy reminded herself to ask Grammy Nell to say a prayer for Crazy Tony’s squad and the guy that gave them the rice for Katie. Maybe she didn’t believe in God, but there was no harm in hedging her bets.

The Kia sounded like it was about to fall apart, which was part of the illusion they created. Tony had inserted a random piece of metal by the fan that rattled like crazy. The Kia was actually pretty reliable. That was important, since they always wanted to get out of town fast.

Last time any of them had gone into town, Angelica and John had played the well-to-do young Have couple shopping for jewelry. John had driven the Audi, and both of them looked like fashion models. They were able to keep up their charming chatter with the salesman at the jewelry store, while Angelica tried on rings and bracelets, and John kept asking to see more things. They were cute and funny and the salesman didn’t even know he was being manipulated. He was delighted to sell them a gold link bracelet (charged on one of Alex’s hacked credit cards), and by the time he noticed that two rings were missing, John and Angelica were long gone. John had felt kind of sorry for the salesman, probably a Hope who would soon be a Deplo, but Angelica told him not to be an idiot. The salesman was alive and had a job, so they knew which side he’d been on in the Insurrection. They took the three pieces of jewelry straight to Grammy Nell so she could sell them for cash. Grammy Nell might be seventy years old, but she was an excellent fence.

They had a long way to drive down the mountain before they got on the paved road to town, and then another hour to get there. Alex was talking a mile a minute as usual, explaining how he had hacked the bank accounts and reloaded the gift cards. Eliza was listening attentively, asking intelligent questions so that she could do it if necessary. Sharing knowledge was important. Everyone needed skills.

Peggy put her head down on Gil’s shoulder and closed her eyes. She dreaded going to town, even though it was an opportunity to get news and see what was going on. It was scary, though, and she would spend most of the day with butterflies in her stomach, worrying that she might see someone she knew. It was unlikely; Philadelphia was more than two hundred miles from Albany. Unlike Eliza and Angelica, she didn’t have college friends from out of town. Still, she knew that she and her sisters were on some sort of list. If their parents were considered to be seditionists, they could easily be charged too. That thought brought her back to the night that her parents had been taken, and even though she had told herself that she had to stop reliving it, she couldn’t shake it. Maybe it was the time of year, almost exactly two years since it had happened. Katie was nearly three now. All she’d ever known was being in a temporary shelter. Peggy had had a happy, stable childhood with her parents and sisters, and she wished so much that she could give that to Katie.

That first night, wedged into the stone alcove on the ledge, Peggy had held her tight, doing her best to keep her warm. Katie had slept, but Peggy had stayed wide awake. She heard the Greaters crash around for a while, stumbling and cursing. One of them fell and apparently hurt his ankle. She was relieved when she heard them make their way back toward the house. She sat there on the cold ground for hours, figuring out what she was going to do. By the time the sky in the east started to lighten, she had a plan.

The Miller family lived about a mile and a half from where she was. She could keep to the woods for most of that distance and run that last quarter mile so that she was unlikely to be seen. Amanda Miller was one of her best friends. She could go there and at least get milk for Katie. She understood that she couldn’t ask the Millers to let her stay – it would be risking their lives – but maybe they could let her make a phone call and lend her some money. She had to get to her sisters in New York. She didn’t know what time it was when she finally stood up, carefully laying her sleeping baby sister on the ground. There was just the faintest lightening of the darkness on the horizon, so it was approaching dawn. Peggy crept cautiously out of the rocky alcove to the ledge. There was nothing but silence. She walked a few feet up from the opening in the rocks and, disgusting herself, squatted down and peed on the ground. No choice. Katie’s diaper was absolutely saturated, but there was nothing she could do about that now. She pulled her pants up and wished she had some water. She carefully thought through what she was going to do – drop down to the lower ledge and walk the mile and a half north. At that point, she would meet a road that connected the rural community with the main road to Albany. At dawn on a Saturday morning, there shouldn’t be much traffic, but she’d stay on the edge of the woods as much as possible. A short quarter mile down the road was the Millers’ house, a white rancher with blue shutters and a big maple tree in the front yard. She could knock on Amanda’s window. If the Millers weren’t home, or worse, if they wouldn’t let her in, she’d need to come up with something else, but she didn’t let herself think of that yet. Katie would wake up soon, wet and hungry, and she had nothing to offer her.

She went back to the alcove, and gathered Katie up, wrapping the blanket tightly around her. She was cold and tired and grubby. Katie whimpered, and Peggy patted her, whispering once again, “One, two, buckle my shoe,” as she made her way northward on the ledge, slid down to the lower level and walked as fast as she could. When she got near the road, she paused and listened carefully, but heard no cars. She took a deep breath and ran the last quarter mile on the road as fast as she could, thinking, in some corner of her mind, how proud Mr. Shepherd, her track coach, would be of her. At the Millers’ property, she cut across the lawn and behind the house, sighing with relief that no vehicles had passed and she was now hidden from the road. It still wasn’t fully light out, but she could see that the house was in darkness. No one was awake yet. Amanda’s window was the third one down.

Gil nudged her, and she blinked. “You asleep, _chérie_?” he asked.

“Mm-mm. Just resting.” She sat up straighter and looked out the window. Not much farther now.

“Here’s your list,” Eliza said, leaning back to give it to her. It was written lopsidedly on a torn piece of paper. The usual in terms of food, mostly things that could be carried and didn’t need refrigeration: rice, dried beans, peanut butter, canned tomatoes, canned fruit, raisins, oatmeal, salt, powdered milk (which was disgusting, but an absolute necessity for Katie), and a few fresh things for today. It wasn’t a gourmet diet, but Alex did his research and it would keep them healthy. Peggy’s list also noted aspirin, antibiotic ointment, and condoms. No matter what, they always got condoms and shared them out as needed. They lived under the wrong conditions for babies. It was hard enough for Katie, but she was lucky to have seven adults devoted to her protection. Nevertheless, Peggy had overheard a conversation between Alex and a colonel from headquarters, who told him Katie should be put up for adoption. Alex had just said no and moved on, but it had scared Peggy to death. What if something happened to Alex and someone tried to take Katie away from her? Katie was theirs – all of theirs. They would take care of her, but Peggy definitely didn’t want to bring another innocent child into this world now.

In addition to all the things on the list, they also knew to steal whatever they could, as long as they did it safely and didn’t risk being caught by stealing useless items. Alex had nearly lost his mind that time John had swiped candy bars. Candy was calorie-dense, but not nutrition-dense, Alex had yelled. If John was going to steal food, he should get packets of almonds or dried fruit. John wasn’t intimidated by Alex’s yelling; he had just stood there, half-smiling, and waited for it to be over. When Alex stopped for breath, John shrugged and said, “Okay,” and handed Alex a Snickers bar. Alex tried to stay mad, but ended up by punching John in the arm, and the two of them had play-fought across the floor of the cabin while everybody laughed, and then John handed out the candy and they all ate it, even Katie. It could have ended differently, but John could almost always deal with Alex. Whenever Alex got too intense or too stressed, or walked the floors with insomnia, it was John or Eliza who talked him down.

Today they’d be trying to steal some yarn for Eliza’s projects, and extras of small items like socks or toothpaste. Since Peggy had the food on her list, that meant Eliza and Alex would be getting things like soap and toilet paper. They’d be in and out of the store and at Grammy Nell’s in less than an hour.

Alex parked halfway down the row of cars in the parking lot and they went in, separating near the door. While Peggy filled the cart with groceries, Gil kept a careful watch. It was a Tuesday morning, not a busy shopping time – they were always careful about that – but a Greater could challenge anyone at any time if they “looked suspicious.” It was hard to know what a Greater might consider “suspicious,” so they never did anything to call attention to themselves. No eye contact with other shoppers, no questions. Everyone else behaved the same way, so it wasn’t difficult. She had never seen a Greater in the Walmart, but she knew one could turn up at any time.

Peggy and Gil were both good at taking two small items off a shelf at once, palming one, putting the other in the cart, and then slipping the palmed item into a pocket. The clothes they wore for shopping trips had extra pockets that Herc had skillfully concealed in the inside seams. Even Peggy couldn’t tell when Gil had palmed something, but when she saw him adjust his jacket, she knew something had gone into a pocket. They finished the list in about forty minutes, separated briefly to do a quick round and see what they could swipe, then met at the checkout. Of course they both had to show their ID cards, another law of the new government. John, an art major, had turned out to be a gifted forger, and all of them had very reliable identification. Even Katie had a fake birth certificate, naming Maureen and Gilbert Martin – Peggy and Gil – as the parents of Katherine Louise. Peggy had been Maureen Martin for over a year now, and wondered if she would ever be Peggy Schuyler again. Alex and Eliza were James and Sandra Hawthorn, Angelica and John were Allison and Sean Burns, and Herc was Samuel Wilson.

As usual, their cards were scanned with no problem, and they were back at the car before Alex and Eliza. They loaded their purchases in the trunk of the Kia and climbed into the back seat. Five minutes alone would be nice. Gil smiled at her and reached into one of his pockets.

“Guess what,” he said.

“No idea.”

“C’mon, try.”

“Um, diamond ring?”

Gil shook his head.

“Lollipops?”

“Silly girl.” He pulled out a pair of lacy pale yellow panties. “For you, _ma belle_.”

Peggy giggled. “Just what I need!”

“Indeed. The ones you had on last night – blecch!”

“Hey, they were clean! Just a little stretched out of shape.”

“A little?”

Peggy made a face at him. “That must be why you wanted to get rid of them so fast.”

“But of course. Now these …” he held them up and studied them. “These I will get rid of slowly,” he said, sounding very French, and Peggy blushed in spite of herself.

“Put them away,” she told him. “You know we’re supposed to get things that can be shared with everybody. Are you expecting me to share those with Angelica and Eliza?”

Gil shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I happened to see Alex in the same department. In fact, it was seeing him that gave me the idea.”

“Oh, really? I’m sure that will make Eliza happy.”

“Mm,” Gil agreed, and nuzzled her neck. “Or maybe Eliza and Angelica. I saw him swipe two pair, one blue and one pink.” He leaned in and kissed her, and then kissed her again, and it was just getting interesting when the car door opened.

“Well, hello,” said Alex. “I see you’re using your time wisely.”

“It’s an excellent cover,” Gil told him. “Nobody’s going to pay any attention to a couple making out in a car, and nobody sees our faces.”

“Good logic,” Alex agreed. “Next time you drive.”

“Fair enough.”

Eliza laughed. They were all more optimistic since they had loaded up on food. They were all hungry, too, since there had been no dinner the night before and breakfast had been about a tablespoon of jam each. They were used to it, though, and Grammy Nell usually had something for them to eat. Alex pointed the Kia south, and in about twenty minutes, they pulled up in front of an old brick row house on a tiny side street. There were thousands of row houses in Philly, some of them dating back to the 1700’s. This wasn’t a historic one, though, just a very ordinary shabby old house with two bedrooms and wonky plumbing. Grammy Nell was a typical “little old lady” in looks alone. She was about five feet tall, dumpy and wrinkled, with short, badly cut gray hair. She wore bifocals that she peered through as if she still couldn’t see very well. She dressed in “comfortable” clothing, which meant sweat pants and shirts with cats or butterflies on them. When you met Grammy Nell, you’d think she was sweet, but probably not too bright. You’d be dead wrong.

It was Angelica who had first encountered Grammy Nell nearly a year ago. Angelica had been with John, doing the Deplo couple at a different Walmart than the one they’d visited today. They tried to shop at as many stores as possible, so no one would know them. Grammy Nell had attempted to engage Angelica in conversation, the kind of chitchat that had once been common in stores but was now hardly ever heard. Angelica, as always, kept her guard up, murmuring monosyllables, and looking at the floor. John threw his arm around Angelica’s shoulder and steered her off, and they thought that was the end of it. They were startled, then, to find the little old lady behind them in the parking lot later.

“I think you dropped this!” she had called out brightly, waving a paper.

“I’m sure I didn’t,” Angelica had replied.

“Here, you’d better check,” Grammy Nell had said, shoving the paper into Angelica’s hand.

 _I can help you_ was written on it in neat letters. _Turn left parking lot exit. Go thru 2 lights, right on Castle, 3rd house on left. Brick, white door._

John and Angelica had had an argument in the car. What if she really could help? What if she was working with the Haves and had recognized Angelica? What if it was a trap? What if she was one of the secret Hopes? There was no way they could consult the others without a phone. They finally decided that they would go to the house and Angelica would wait in the car while John went to the door. If all was clear, he’d come back for Angelica. If he didn’t come back in ten minutes, she was to leave and tell Alex what had happened.

It was the kind of decision they had to make at a moment’s notice now. You could die any time; you just had to decide where the odds lay. John figured he could knock out the old lady pretty easily, and it just seemed improbable that she had a platoon of Greaters in her kitchen.

John had bet right.


	3. Playing a Dangerous Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you meet Grammy Nell and get some more of Peggy's story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first three chapters are being posted today; others will follow, probably about one a week, but I am erratic. If you like them tell me, and I'll probably work faster.

Alex parked the battered Kia in front of the brick house with the white door, and Eliza went up to knock. The rest of them followed once the door was opened. Grammy Nell hugged them all and began to pour out tea. It was pretty weak tea, but it was hot, and anything tasted good these days.

“I have bread for you,” Grammy Nell pronounced. “I got some flour and bartered for some yeast.”

Bread. Something so ordinary in past times, such a rarity now. Factories that used to make it had been destroyed in the insurrection, agriculture had been disrupted, and everything was rationed. Most flour that was now being produced went to the few factories that remained, so it was seldom on the shelves of any but the Have stores. And yeast? Actually, Peggy wasn’t sure what yeast did or why you needed it to make bread, but if Grammy Nell knew what to do with it, she was happy. Grammy Nell put a tray with a loaf of bread on it on the table, and cut slices for all of them. A slice of bread and a cup of tea made a fabulous lunch.

“There’s another loaf for you to take home,” she said. “I’ll keep the rest of this one for myself.”

They understood. She was incredibly generous to give most of the bread away, but she needed food too.

“How was your shopping?” she asked.

“Pretty good,” Eliza told her. “We could have gotten more, but there just wasn’t enough of some things.”

“Your ration numbers still okay?”

Alex nodded. They all had ration numbers that had been assigned to their fake identities. The “Martins” and the “Hawthorns” were allotted certain amounts of each item. Deplos got less of the luxury items, of course, and were barred from purchasing the top brands of most things, but Alex had been too cautious to try to get them all registered as Haves. Only John and Angelica could access Have rations.

“I sold the things you left last time,” Grammy Nell said. “Well, sold some, bartered some. I have some cash and a few other things for you, but eat first.”

Grammy Nell’s house was one of the few places they could relax and be themselves, so they talked comfortably and filled her in on what had been going on. It would be winter soon, so there would be less activity, but Alex and Crazy Tony had met recently with General Akhdir. Plans were tentative for now, and of course they wouldn’t know until the last minute, but they would be carrying out some missions even in the cold weather. Disrupting things like the power grid or the roads was just as hard on the Hopes and the Deplos as it was on the Haves, but until the Haves were overthrown and there could be a new election, they would keep doing it. Peggy sometimes doubted if they could succeed, but they would never stop trying. She sipped her weak tea, and thought back to how she and her sisters had become part of the Movement.

She had stood outside Amanda’s window in the gray dawn, Katie crying fretfully against her shoulder. She took a deep breath and tapped at the window. Nothing. She tapped again, harder this time. Still nothing. She was crying now too. Please let her hear me, she prayed to whatever God might be listening. After the third attempt, she saw Amanda’s blinds move cautiously, then Amanda threw open the window.

“Peggy?” she gasped. “What the _hell_? Is that Katie? What’s wrong?”

“Please let me in,” Peggy begged, sobbing now.

Amanda nodded. “Back door,” she said, and Peggy ran to the door that led to the kitchen. Amanda let her in, hugged her, and was crying herself. As briefly as she could, Peggy told her story.

“Of course, I’ll help you! So will my parents. Just sit here for a minute.” She dashed off.

In a few minutes, Amanda’s parents were there. Mrs. Miller exclaimed over Katie, cursed the Greaters and President King, and then took charge. “Amanda,” she said briskly, “get dressed and go to the twenty-four hour pharmacy. Make a list; I don’t want you to forget anything. Get diapers for this poor baby, any baby clothes they might have, socks, tights, anything. Get Peggy whatever she’ll need – toothbrush, hairbrush, you know. Take your ration card and mine. If they ask any questions, tell them your cousin Belinda and her baby are coming for a visit and you want to have things on hand.”

Amanda wide-eyed and pale, nodded and ran to her room.

Mrs. Miller turned to her husband. “Jim” she said, “Peggy is going to need some cash.” She paused, but kept looking at him. “And an ID.”

“I’ll get on it,” Mr. Miller responded, and left the kitchen.

“Now,” Mrs. Miller said to Peggy, “go get some of Amanda’s clothes and take a shower. You’ll feel better after you get cleaned up. I’m going to take Katie to my bathroom and give her a bath, and then use a towel for a diaper, at least for now. Amanda will probably be back before you’re out of the shower.”

Peggy was too tired to argue, and was profoundly grateful for Amanda’s family. She knew she couldn’t stay there, but it was so good to have someone else take responsibility, even if only for a little while.

As Mrs. Miller had predicted, Amanda was there when Peggy returned to the kitchen, wearing a pair of Amanda’s jeans and a tee shirt. They were a little big on her, but she and Amanda had traded clothes since middle school, and it felt comfortingly familiar to wear them now.

Amanda had gotten everything she could think of that Peggy and Katie might need. The store had even had some baby sleepers that would fit Katie, so she would have something clean to wear. In the meantime, Mrs. Miller had thrown all of their things in the washing machine, and had made scrambled eggs and toast. Peggy ate hungrily, while Mrs. Miller fed Katie. Mr. Miller was seated at the table too, drinking a cup of coffee. He looked very serious.

“Peggy,” he said gently, “you know we would like you to stay here.”

“No,” Peggy told him. “You know they’ll look for me here.”

Mr. Miller didn’t waste time arguing. “I know. I figure we’ve got a few hours at best. I’ve been on the phone. Bob Jackowski up the road is going to have a serious problem with his truck that’s going to block the highway. If the Greaters are coming from town, they’ll have to go back and then drive all the way around the mountain. In the meantime, Dave Hanson is sending his boy over on his bike. Dave’s daughter Bethany looks a little like you. You can use her ID card.”

“Wait, no!” Peggy broke in. “I can’t! What will she do?”

Mr. Miller looked at her steadily. “She has another one. Some of us have more than one.”

Peggy gasped. “How …?”

“It’s better if you don’t know. And if they look at the card too closely, there may be a problem. Bethany’s twenty-one, and she doesn’t really resemble you, but you’ve got the same coloring and you both have long curly hair.”

Peggy swallowed hard and nodded. Fortunately, Katie wouldn’t need an ID, since she was under the age of two.

“I want to go to my sisters in New York. They’re at Columbia.”

“You need to contact them,” Mr. Miller told her.

“It’s okay,” Peggy told him. “I’ve been to visit them there before.”

“No, you need to contact them because all three of you could be charged under the DCA.”

The DCA was the Domestic Conspiracy Act. Under that legislation, the authorities were able to assume that anyone living in the household of a seditionist would have known what the seditionist was planning, and so would be equally guilty

“Oh, my God,” Peggy gasped, “I didn’t think … but Angelica and Eliza weren’t living at home.”

Mr. Miller shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. College attendance is temporary, so they are legally part of the household.”

Peggy wiped the tears off her face. “So I’ve got to warn them.”

“Yes. I have a phone you can use to text. Try to send something only they will understand, but make it clear.”

Something only her sisters would understand. There were so many secrets that just the three of them shared, but now exhaustion was catching up with her and her mind was blank. Wait – they had all taken French in school, and Angelica and Eliza used to call her _petit mouton_ , “little sheep” because she was the smallest. They’d remember that. She nodded to Mr. Miller. “I can do that.”

He handed her a phone. She put in Eliza’s number and typed 911 OMW 911 HIDE _petit mouton_ 911\. Her sisters would know something was very wrong and that Peggy was on her way to them.

“When you get to the college, is there someone you will be able to contact who might know where your sisters will be?”

Peggy nodded again. “I’ve met some of their friends,” she said. “I’ll find Alex or John. I know they’ll help me.” She jumped suddenly as there was a tap on the back door.

“It’s okay,” Mrs. Miller told her. “It’s the Hanson boy.”

She opened the door, took something from the boy, and handed it to Peggy. It was a standard issue ID card with the name Bethany Hanson on it. She looked at the picture. Mr. Miller had been right; it didn’t really look much like her, but the coloring and hair were close. Peggy usually wore her hair half up with a clip, but Bethany’s was parted on the side and hanging down. She’d copy the hairstyle to look more like the girl in the picture.

“As soon as you’re ready, I’m going to drive you into Albany to the bus station. There’s less security there than on a train. We should get started soon.”

Amanda, who had been standing there silently throughout the conversation, burst into tears. “I hate them!” she sobbed. “I hate King and the Greaters and all of them so much! They have no right to do this to us!”

Her mother held her. “I know,” she murmured softly. “I know. I wish you didn’t have to even know about this. But we have to help Peggy.”

Amanda nodded. “I’ll go get a suitcase …”

“Get the old duffle bag,” her father told her. “It’s less conspicuous.”

Amanda was gone for a few minutes and returned with the bag. “I packed some things for you,” she said to Peggy, her voice trembling. Peggy looked and saw that there were two or three complete outfits, clean underwear, and a lightweight jacket, as well as her own and Katie’s clothes that were freshly washed.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” she tried to say, but Amanda just threw her arms around her and they both cried.

Mrs. Miller added the sleepers and diapers for Katie, and then realized something. “You’re barefoot,” she said. “What size do you wear?”

“Eight,” Peggy told her. “Amanda’s shoes are too small for me.”

“You’ll have to wear mine. They’ll be a little big, but put on two pairs of socks.”

Peggy did as she was told, and Mrs. Miller gave her a pair of sneakers. They were a little loose in the heel, but she’d manage.

“She needs a purse,” Amanda reminded them and went to get one. It was a canvas hobo bag that would hold everything. She also produced a wallet for Peggy’s ID, a lipstick, a pen, and a few other odds and ends so that the purse would look normal. Finally, Amanda handed her a soft warm sweater in a beautiful lemon yellow color. It was new one that Peggy had admired when Amanda showed it to her just a week ago, before the bottom fell out of her world.

It was almost too much. She tried to say no, but Amanda pushed it into her hands and then helped her put it on over her tee shirt. She also helped Peggy style her hair so that she looked more like Bethany Hanson. Then it was time to leave.


	4. Dire Need of Assistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The flashback this time is from Gil's point of view. Short chapter, but more to come soon.

Gil watched Peggy from across the table. She was sipping tea and nibbling on her bread, but he could tell that her mind was miles away. This had happened last October as well; the cool air and the changing season seemed to take her back to that awful time when she had lost her parents and had, at the age of seventeen, taken on responsibility for her baby sister.

He remembered the first time he had seen his girl. Alex had come to his apartment at seven o’clock in the morning and banged on the door until he answered.

“What the hell?” he asked sleepily as Alex pushed his way in.

“Eliza got a crazy message from her little sister,” Alex responded without preamble. He was worried, scared even.

“What do you mean, ‘crazy’?” Gil had asked, grabbing the K cups out of the cupboard.

Alex showed him a screenshot of Peggy’s text.

“You got more phones?” Gil asked. Alex had been dismissed at the same time as all other non-native-born students. Gil had been one of the few exceptions because of his family’s money and position. Both he and Alex recognized the hypocrisy of the school’s decision, but they were powerless to change it, and Gil was in his final year.

“Unimportant, look at the damn text,” Alex told him impatiently.

“ _Petit mouton?_ ” Gil asked.

“Eliza says it’s a nickname they called Peggy when she was little.”

“So it’s a way of verifying that the text is really from her?”

“I suppose.”

Gil nodded. “And she’s on her way?”

“Again, I suppose that’s what OMW means, right? How about you stop asking inane questions and help me out here?”

Alex’s brain worked at lightning speed, and he got impatient when the rest of the world couldn’t keep up, especially when he was upset, like now.

“What do you need me to do?” Gil asked. “You know I’ll help any way I can.”

“Eliza and Angelica are at my apartment with John.” John and Alex shared a small apartment off campus. “That’s the best we can do for now, but not for long since everybody knows we’re friends, so it’s obviously not secure. Somebody’s got to be on campus to wait for Peggy. It can’t be me, but I figured you, Herc, and John can kind of circulate near the campus gathering places and watch for her. Here’s a picture.” He showed Gil a picture of a teenage girl with golden brown skin and long curly hair like Angelica’s. In the picture, she had a mischievous smile emphasized by bright lipstick.

“She’s pretty,” Gil commented. “I’ll remember that face.”

“Yeah, well, she’s a Schuyler sister, and I’m sending you the picture anyway,” Alex told him. “Listen, I’ve asked John to hang out in the student center, and Herc to stay around the food court. You take the library. If she left around the time she sent the text, she’ll be in the area by noon, maybe. We have to find her as soon as she gets here.”

“Do you have any idea what happened?”

“Not really, but Angelica and Eliza have been trying to reach their parents since they got the text, and the phone just goes to voicemail.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Alex shook his head angrily. “I talked to TJ. He thinks there may be a crackdown on associates or friends of President Washington and the General. He’s trying to find out what he can. Fuck King and his fucking Haves.”

Gil nodded soberly. King’s laws were getting more and more frightening.

When President Washington’s term was up, most people had expected Vice-President Akhdir to run for President. Not only had he served as Vice-President, he had been a much-respected Army General prior to that. Instead, though, he had taken a position at West Point, his alma mater. There were those who blamed him for what happened next, saying that if he had run, Blodman wouldn’t have been elected. Not that it mattered, really, because Blodman had only been in office a few weeks when the coup occurred. The public was told that Blodman had had a stroke and was incapacitated; the new Vice-President, George King, took over. That’s when things started to get bad. Blodman had been goofy, but not dangerous. He got a lot of votes just for being a funny guy. It turned out that King had been the real power. Supposedly, Blodman was now in a nursing home, having suffered “irreversible brain damage,” but no one really knew – just like no one really knew what had caused the plane crash that had killed not only former President and Mrs. Washington, but their son Parker, his wife, and their two young children. “Pilot error,” they said, but the pilot was dead too.

General Akhdir did his best to stand up to the King government. When the mostly Have congress began rubber-stamping all of King’s policies, he spoke out. When the Alien and Sedition Acts and the Domestic Conspiracy Act were instituted, Akhdir made appeals to the public to stand against them. A warrant had immediately been issued for his arrest, charging him with inciting sedition. He had gone into hiding, finding sympathetic friends across the country, but very few who were brave enough to stand with him publicly. He was currently directing the Movement from an undisclosed location.

In the months that followed King’s taking over, there were demonstrations and protests, and finally, open rebellion. Citizens took to the streets with any weapon they could find, but unorganized civilians were no match for King’s Elite Guard, soon known as the Greaters, because King said they were “greater than any police force in history.” The insurrection had been put down brutally, and the laws became even more draconian.

They were lucky now that the Greaters rarely showed up on campus. They’d been there the day the non-native-borns had to leave, though, and there had been a few protests. The thing was, most of the students were Haves, and the ones who weren’t, like Alex and Herc, had no power. Herc, who was a scholarship student, was still able to attend classes, but there was talk that all male students in the textile program were going to be dismissed because that major was thought to be “corrupting the values of young men.” “I don’t know what the hell they think they’re doing,” Herc had said bitterly. “We’re all gay already.”

By eight o’clock that October day, Gil had made his way to the library. He, Alex, John, and Herc would stay in contact by phone until Peggy showed up. They had to use a sort of code, referring only to a “little sheep,” since conversations could so easily be monitored. Gil wondered indifferently where Alex had found another phone. Alex had learned from early childhood to do whatever it took to survive.

The library was dead this early in the morning, with only two or three totally dedicated nerds studying or researching. Gil piled a few books in front of himself to make it look like he was doing something, and actually reviewed some notes for his anatomy and physiology class, but mostly he was bored. Every half hour or so, he got up and walked around, looking for the girl in the picture. At noon, he decided to take one more walk around the floor before he went to the food court and traded places with Herc so he could get some lunch.

As he passed the big double doors that opened onto the courtyard, he saw her. She wasn’t smiling like she had been in the picture, and she wasn’t wearing bright lipstick, but it was her, the same pretty girl with the long curly hair and golden brown skin. She was wearing a soft yellow sweater, and as she pushed open the door, a shaft of sunlight illuminated her face. Gil realized three facts at the exact same time. She was perfect. She was terrified. And, God Almighty, she had a baby in a backpack.

The memory made him smile, and he looked at Peggy.

She smiled back. “What?” she asked

“Just thinking of the first time I saw you,” he said.

“Two years. Almost exactly.”

“Are you two going to get all mushy?” Alex asked with interest.

Gil and Peggy kept smiling at each other. “Well, maybe not right this moment,” Gil said, exaggerating his French accent and winking, which made Peggy blush again.

“I can’t believe you can still make her blush like that!” Eliza exclaimed. “I mean, seriously? Two years, and she’s still all giggly and helpless around you.”

“I can make you blush, too,” Alex told Eliza.

Eliza gave him her famous raised eyebrow. “Oh, please,” she said.

“Want to see me try?” Alex persisted.

“God, no,” Gil and Peggy said at the same time.

Alex leaned over and gave Eliza a noisy kiss, but then was all business. “Well, Grammy Nell,” he said, “what have you got for us?”


	5. Oh, Look at Those Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's where the fluff comes in, so if you hate cute, stop now. Only fluffy, though, nothing smutty -- yet. And a few -- very few -- hints about Alex's love interest(s?). It might be a week or so till the next chapter, so be patient, but I work faster with encouragement, so comments help. Thanks for the kudos!

Peggy settled back in her chair while Grammy Nell hauled out her cache. Her eyes met Gil’s across the table again, and she smiled at him while Alex and Grammy Nell went over the items carefully. Gil had always made her smile, even on the day they met, when she had been so frightened that she could barely walk.

She had pushed the heavy library door open, trying to see as she went from the sunshine into the darker interior. Before her vision had time to clear, she realized there was a very tall man standing in front of her.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi, excuse me,” she responded briefly, trying to get past him.

“Are you all right?” he asked, and she noticed he had an accent. “You look like a little lost sheep,” he continued, “or, as we might say in French, _un petit mouton perdu_.”

Peggy had stopped in her tracks and dropped the heavy duffle bag she was carrying. “What did you say?” she asked.

“I asked if you were all right, _petit mouton_.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m a friend,” he said. “I know who you are, and I can help you and … your baby?” he added quizzically.

“My baby sister, Katie,” Peggy told him.

“Ah, okay. Of course, I should have realized.”

“Why should you?”

“Alex might have reminded me.”

A name had been said now, and Peggy breathed a little easier. “You know Alex?”

His face was very serious. “He’s one of my closest friends. We’ve all been waiting for you today.”

“Who has?”

“Alex, John, Herc, me, and your sisters.”

Peggy’s eyes filled, but she managed to ask, “They’re all right? My sisters are okay?”

He nodded. “They’re with Alex. You should come with me now,” he continued, picking up the duffle bag and patting Katie on the head. She was awake now, and looked up at him, not quite ready to be friends yet.

As they walked down the library steps, he said, “I’m Gil by the way, short for Gilbert, which is actually pronounced zheel-bair, more or less, but Herc turned it into Jill-Bear, which is not acceptable, so I live with being called Gil.”

Peggy smiled a little. “’Jill’ doesn’t suit you,” she agreed. “You’re from France, aren’t you?”

Gil smiled back. “Yes, I am. From a small town called Chavaniac.”

“Is it near Paris?” Peggy asked, walking as fast as she could to keep up with his long legs.

“No, not at all. It’s in Auvergne, in the south central part of France. It’s beautiful country.”

“Why are you here?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I came here to study, and then your government went crazy, so I decided to stay and see what I could do to help.”

They had arrived at a parking lot, and he opened the door of a new-looking Audi. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t have a car seat, but I don’t live far.”

“I’ll sit in the back and hold her,” Peggy told him. He helped her get Katie out of the carrier and put the duffle bag in the trunk. Peggy sat in the center of the back seat, clutching Katie tightly, while Gil drove the short distance to his apartment in an older but well-maintained stone building.

“I texted Alex,” Gil told her as they got out. “They’ll be here soon.”

“They?”

Gil smiled. “Everybody.”

Peggy nodded. She had gotten this far, so she could get through the next few minutes without breaking down completely. She followed Gil through the door, up the steps, and into the apartment. She sat down on the couch, Katie still in her arms, feeling completely hollow inside. It had taken all the strength she had not to think about her parents over the last eighteen hours. It seemed almost impossible that at this time yesterday, she had been in English class, discussing Hamlet, with no inkling of what her life was going to become.

“Can I get you something?” Gil asked. “Coffee? A soda?’

She shook her head. “I can’t … I don’t think …” she was trying not to cry, but the tears were about to overflow. “I … don’t think … I don’t think I can swallow,” she told him, and then the tears did come, as she sobbed out the story of what had happened.

 _“Ah, la pauvre!”_ he exclaimed, dropping to his knees in front of her. He wrapped his arms around her and Katie, and murmured in French, _“Pauvre petit mouton, je suis désolé de te poser des questions, bête que je suis.”_ He stroked her hair and Katie’s and she leaned against him and just for a moment, let herself feel safe. Then she took a deep, ragged breath and sat up.

“I can’t do that,” she said shakily. “If I let myself start crying, I won’t stop.”

He was still on his knees in front of her. Very gently, he took her face in his hands.

“Listen to me, little sheep,” he said. “I will not let anything hurt you or Katie. Not now, not ever. I will keep you safe. That is a promise.”

She shook her head. “You can’t … you don’t even know me.”

“Look at me,” he told her, and she did, blinking away the tears so she could see him clearly and looked into his deep brown eyes.

“I promise,” he said, his hands still on her face.

“How?”

“I promise. Do you believe me?”

She looked at him and saw nothing but honesty and kindness and strength, and she was really able to believe that he would be willing to put himself between danger and her. He wasn’t just saying this to calm her down. It was, as he said, a promise. She nodded. “I believe you,” she answered, speaking as seriously as he had.

He kissed her on the forehead. “Well, then, that is settled.”

“What is?” she asked.

He smiled. “Everything.”

Before Peggy could ask him another question, there was insistent knocking at the door, and he went to open it.

Angelica and Eliza burst in, both crying, and the Schuyler sisters swept one another up in a heartfelt hug. They all talked at once, except Katie, who was overwhelmed and began to cry.

“I’ll take her,” Gil said. “You talk to your sisters.”

Peggy nodded and handed Katie over to him, much to the bemusement of Alex, John, and Herc, who had followed the girls into the apartment. With Katie under his arm, Gil unzipped the duffle bag and fished out a diaper, saying to Alex over his shoulder, “Get some food for everybody, will you? There's cash in my wallet on the counter.”

“Uh … sandwiches?” Alex asked vaguely. Gil didn’t answer, chatting to Katie in French on his way to the bedroom.

“Get pizza,” John suggested.

“No,” Herc said, “we’ve had pizza every night for a week. Even I’m tired of it. Get chicken or pasta or something.”

“Does the baby eat regular food?” Alex asked, but nobody was paying attention to him.

“Yo, Alex, give me Gil’s money and your keys,” John said. “I’ll go get some stuff.”

Alex agreed and tossed John his keys. Herc followed John out the door, and Alex went over to sit on the couch and put his arm around Eliza.

She turned to him. “Alex, how can we find out where our parents are?” she asked, her voice just a shade below panic level.

Alex shook his head. “Eliza, you know what it’s like. There’s no way to get information if someone’s been arrested.” He turned to Peggy. “Were they charged with sedition?”

Peggy nodded. “At least, my dad was, and they put handcuffs on Mom when she started to fight with them – and then she told me to run, so I did.” She swallowed hard and added, “At least they knew I had Katie. They know she’s okay.”

Angelica looked over Peggy’s head at Alex. They both knew that the Greaters were probably telling Philip and Catherine Schuyler that Peggy had been caught and was in another cell. They would use that lie to try to persuade the Schuylers to inform on others who might be in the Movement. Angelica knew her parents were strong, but she also knew how much they loved their girls. Her eyes met Alex’s and he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. They were not going to tell Peggy any of this.

Gil came back into the living room with a dry and happy Katie on his shoulder. She was babbling and giggling as she patted his curls, so much like her own, but darker. Angelica reached for her, but she hid her face in Gil’s neck.

“Did John and Herc go out to get something to eat?” Gil asked. “I hope you told them to get milk for Katie.”

They all looked at each other blankly, and then Eliza said, “They’ve both got younger brothers and sisters. They’ll think of it.”

“Did you just actually change that baby?” Alex asked Gil.

“Yes, of course,” Gil replied.

“You’re an only child.” Alex reminded him.

_“Et alors?”_

“Well, you didn’t change your younger siblings’ diapers, so …”

“Really, Alex, am I an idiot that I can’t figure out how to change a diaper?”

“No, just … did you ever change a diaper before?”

“No.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Eliza put in “it’s not brain surgery. Which Gil will probably actually be doing someday.”

“Brain surgery?” Peggy asked.

“Pre-med,” Gil explained with a shrug.

“Oh, okay,” Peggy said. “So you’ll be Dr. – oh, God, I don’t even know your last name!”

“Motier, sort of,” Gil replied, looking embarrassed.

“You mean Lafayette,” Alex corrected him.

“So which is it?” Peggy asked, looking back and forth.

“My actual last name is duMotier, but I dropped the du.” Gil told her. “Lafayette is a title.”

“A title?”

“Marquis de Lafayette. It’s a French nobility thing.”

“Hadn’t you noticed that we all call him ‘sir’?” Alex asked.

“No, you don’t, and seriously, French nobility? Like in _The Count of Monte Cristo?_ ”

“No, nothing at all like _The Count of Monte Cristo_. It’s completely outdated now and doesn’t mean anything. My dad just liked history and used the title. I don’t. At least not now. Maybe when I’m sixty years old and surrounded by dozens of children and grandchildren, I’ll decide to be the Marquis, but here and now, I’m Gilbert Motier.”

“Dozens?” asked Peggy quietly.

“Dozens,” replied Gil quite firmly, grinning at her and bouncing Katie on his shoulder.

Angelica and Eliza looked at each other over Peggy’s head. Eliza’s eyebrow went up and Angelica’s jaw dropped.

John and Herc came in a few minutes later with actual food. They had decided against pizza and burgers and had gone instead to an upscale supermarket where John had used his Have ID and brought back roast chicken, salad, macaroni and cheese and green beans, along with chocolate chip cookies and a gallon of milk.

“Do I look stupid?” Herc had asked. “I’m the oldest of six. Kids drink milk.”

They all ate, even Peggy, whose mood had been lifted by her sisters’ presence, and then cleaned up together. Alex and John had been to Albany to visit, so Peggy knew them, but when they had been at the Schuyler home, she had assumed that they were a couple. Now Alex seemed to be with Eliza, so she was a little confused. And the way Angelica watched them … well, she’d sort it all out later. Right now there were other things to deal with.

Katie was sleeping peacefully on a folded quilt on the floor with her beloved Minnie Mouse blanket over her. Alex gathered them in the living room to talk.

“I talked to TJ,” Alex said. “I know where he is, but you don't need to know, so I’m not telling you, okay? Just deal with it. He can make room for Angelica and Eliza, but not Peggy, and definitely not Katie."

“Can you tell us if he’s far from here?” Angelica asked.

“It’s within five hundred miles.”

Eliza reached for Alex. “I don’t want to go hundreds of miles away.”

“I know,” Alex told her, taking her hand, “but I want to be sure you’re safe.”

Gil came and sat on the arm of Peggy’s chair, casually putting his hand on her shoulder.

“Are you sure we can’t go back to school?” Angelica asked. Like Gil, she was in her senior year and wanted to graduate.

“Remember what happened to the Livingston kids? You can’t stay here. You can always finish college later – I certainly intend to – but right now, the most important thing is to stay alive.”

“But if we go, what about Peggy? And Katie? We have to think about Katie,” Eliza said.

“Peggy and Katie can stay here,” Gil said calmly.

“What do you mean, here?” Alex asked. “Here in New York?”

“Here in my apartment.”

Peggy felt herself blushing, but she didn’t say a word. She just reached up and put her hand in Gil’s. He squeezed it and laughed out loud with sheer joy.

“What the hell is going on?” Angelica demanded. “You two have known each other – what, three hours? Maybe?”

“About that,” Gil agreed.

“And under extremely emotional circumstances.”

Peggy nodded, but she was smiling.

“And, oh, Peggy is just going to stay here with you? She’s seventeen, for Christ’s sake!”

Gil looked at Peggy with interest. “Are you really?”

“Mm-hm. How old are you, by the way?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Oh, wow. Old.”

Gil shrugged, and at that moment, Peggy was positive he was the best-looking man she had ever seen, with his unruly mop of black curls and, right now, a completely spectacular smile. “But not too old, right?’

“Oh, no. Definitely not too old.”

Gil laughed again, and swooped down and kissed her, really kissed her, right there in front of everybody. Then he picked her up, sat down in the chair, and held her on his lap.

“So,” he said, “maybe we should tell your sisters?”

“Sure,” Peggy agreed, “and your friends.”

“We have an announcement,” Gil proclaimed. “Peggy and I are … um, what are we?”

“How about together?”

He nodded. “That’s good. We are together.”

“You are fucking nuts, is what you are,” Alex told him. “And how do you think you’re going to hide Peggy and Katie here?”

“Nobody has seen her.”

“So, seriously, she’s never going to leave the apartment?” John wanted to know. “And Katie can’t even go outside to play? For, like, ever? That’s messed up.”

“No, not at all,” Gil assured him. “The only people who know this person is Peggy Schuyler are the seven of us, right? Angelica and Eliza have to go into hiding because hundreds of people in the area know who they are – classmates, professors, the clerk at Staples, the barista at Starbucks. But nobody knows who Peggy is, so for now, she just won’t be Peggy.”

Angelica nodded slowly. “But how are you going to explain her? She’s going to have to have an ID and a backstory.”

“John can help us,” Gil said. “John’s a forger,” he added to Peggy.

“Artist!” John corrected him.

“So can John make an ID that will actually be accepted?” Peggy asked.

“Oh, please,” Alex said, “John’s been making ID’s for the Movement for the last couple of years. Not one has ever been challenged.”

“I’m good,” John agreed.

“So what’s my new name going to be?”

“How about Adrienne?” Gil suggested.

“Adrienne.” Peggy tried it out. “Why Adrienne?”

“Wait a minute,” Herc said. “Wasn’t she …?”

“Right!” Alex agreed, “That first summer two years ago, when you went back to France for a visit?”

“Exactly,” Gil replied. “So if Adrienne turns up now, with this adorable baby who has curly hair like mine …”

“You bastard!” Alex said, but with admiration.

“So, wait, let me see if I understand this,” Peggy said. “Adrienne was a girlfriend in France that nobody here ever met, and now she – I -- just arrived with your baby?”

“Yes,” Gil agreed. “And I have realized that I truly love her – you -- and you and the baby are now going to live with me.”

“That is fucking brilliant,” John pronounced.

“When did you work this all out?” Angelica asked.

“About three hours ago, actually,” Gil replied.

“Three hours?” Eliza asked. “You mean when you actually met Peggy?”

“Yes,” Gil replied, and kissed Peggy again.

“You’re right, Alex,” Angelica said. “They are both fucking nuts.”

Alex shrugged. “Maybe,” he said, “but let’s leave them to it.”


	6. We Steal Contraband

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little black market trading, some useful shoplifting tips, and backstory on how they all ended up in the cabin. Oh, and a name comes up.

Grammy Nell counted the cash into Alex’s hand. “That’s for the last jewelry that Angelica brought me and the phones from you last time.” When Alex could no longer use a phone, he would have Grammy Nell sell it to one of her electronics buyers. It would then be either refurbished or cannibalized for parts and would eventually make its way back to the black market. The restrictive government only increased the ingenuity of the citizens.

“Now, I couldn’t get a cash buyer for the designer purses, but I was able to barter and then rebarter for them.” Nobody was better than Grammy Nell at driving a bargain. She handed over three pairs of high-quality, sturdy running shoes, one pair in size eight, which would fit either Peggy or Eliza, and two in men’s size ten, which both John and Alex wore. Good shoes were always welcome.

Alex and Gil brought in their barter items for this trip. Thanks to John’s forgery skills, Alex had a tobacco permit, so he always used some of their available assets to buy a couple of cartons of cigarettes. Grammy Nell then sold them pack by pack – or sometimes cigarette by cigarette – and turned a substantial profit. Tobacco permits weren’t all that hard to get, but they were outrageously expensive, about $5,000 a year, and then the tobacco products had to be paid for on top of the permit cost. King’s minions claimed virtuously that the reason was to discourage unhealthy habits, but tobacco farmers in the South were prospering, and a certain percentage of the fees were of course enriching King and his lackeys. The black market in tobacco products was one of the most lucrative, too, and Grammy Nell could sometimes get as much as twenty dollars a pack for cigarettes. Alex gave her the three cartons of cigarettes he’s bought that day, and she smiled. Her cut of the profits was a modest ten percent, but cigarettes were a guaranteed sale.

“I’ve got some regular customers who will be very happy with these,” she said. “What else have you got?”

“Not much, really,” Alex admitted. “We were completely out of food because it’s harder and harder to hack the cards. King has finally hired some tech people who know something, and they’re getting in my way. Anyway, we had to spend almost all the money on food. You guys manage to steal anything we can sell?”

“I got yarn and socks,” Eliza said. “We need those.”

“Batteries,” Gil said, pulling them out of his pockets. They needed those too.

“Aspirin, lip balm, and – ta-da! – one six pack of princess underpants for Katie!” Peggy announced.

“Where the hell are you hiding six pair of underwear?” Eliza wanted to know.

Peggy opened her jacket and showed the large pocket that Herc had cunningly sewed to the inside. It opened at the bottom, so Peggy had been able to slide the pack of underpants in, then press the Velcro closing.

“Herc is a genius,” Eliza declared. “And I guess this means we have to get serious about potty-training Katie, right?”

“She’s nearly three. I think we’re late already,” Peggy agreed.

“So just the cigarettes this time?” Grammy Nell asked.

“Looks like that’s it,” Alex replied. He didn’t bat an eye, but Peggy and Gil knew he had some lacy underpants concealed somewhere. What the hell, they all indulged themselves a little from time to time, and they’d done a good job of stocking up on food. That gave Alex time to work on hacking more cards.

“Are you going to be able to stay where you are over the winter?” Grammy Nell asked.

“I think so,” Alex told her. “There’s always the possibility of the electricity being cut off, but so far I’ve managed to hack into the billing and mark it paid. If it does go off, we’ve got candles and oil lamps. The wood stove will heat the cabin. It would be a pain in the ass to have to heat water for washing, and there’d be no refrigeration, but in winter in the Poconos, we can keep things cold outside. Tony and his squad have the same set-up a mile or so away, so we can work together.”

The cabins they were staying in had once belonged to a Hope family; two brothers had built them for vacations in the mountains. They were small, nothing luxurious about them, just a couple of rustic cabins in the woods, near a lake. The Schuyler girls could imagine the kinds of family getaways that had been spent there – siblings and cousins playing hide-and-seek, swimming and fishing in the lake, parents relaxing on the porches. It was the kind of childhood they had known. Alex, growing up practically on his own, and Herc, the oldest of six in a cramped New York apartment, had no idea how nostalgic the cabins made the girls feel. John and Gil, both from families with the kind of money that made the Schuylers look middle-class, would never have been allowed to spend time in such humble homes. Ironically, that made them the most satisfied with the cabins.

TJ had been the one to find the cabins not long before Angelica and Eliza had to go into hiding. Like Alex, he could hack his way into any computer, and he found that the two Hope brothers –Morris, their name was – had been arrested along with their families. Their homes in Philadelphia had been confiscated and given to a couple of King’s flunkies, but the cabins had escaped official notice. TJ had made sure that would continue by altering tax and land records, while tying the electric bills to those of the Philadelphia properties. It was pretty ingenious, really, and TJ had been busy doing the same with as many vacation properties of incarcerated Hope families as he possibly could.

Angelica and Eliza had stayed at the cabin with TJ’s squad for two months. That December, TJ and his guys had moved south, and Alex had moved into the cabin. By January, the university regulations on foreign-born students had tightened, and Gil had had to leave, furious at being unable to finish his final year. Despite his student visa being revoked, he refused to even consider going back to France, so he and Peggy loaded their things into the Audi and prepared to travel to the cabin with the new ID’s John had provided.

Herc turned up as they were packing, announcing that the university had dismissed him for being “immoral.” “Fuck you,” Herc had said to his textile-printing professor when he was told this right in the middle of class. “Oh, wait,” he had added, “I already have.” His dramatic exit got applause from the class, but he understandably had to leave town. They were trying to cram Herc’s stuff into the trunk when John pulled into the parking garage in his Acura.

“Hey,” he said, getting out of the car. “I’m going with you.”

“They throw you out too?” Herc asked.

John shook his head. “Nah, they like my old man’s money, but I’m not staying here by myself. My friends aren’t good enough to go to this school, fuck it.”

Herc’s stuff was loaded into John’s car, and by evening, seven adults and a year-old baby were living in a two bedroom, one bath cabin. Once they – well, mostly Eliza – worked out chore sharing and schedules, it went surprisingly well. Summer had been a little unsettled; they had to be vigilant, since Have families sometimes vacationed in the area, and they were out on missions from time to time. Alex and Crazy Tony kept the mission teams small, usually no more than four, two from each squad, but the coming and going was nerve-wracking for everyone. There were still missions in winter, but not nearly as many. They were even referring to the cabin as “home” now.

“There’s something else I need to talk to you about,” Grammy Nell said now. She sounded uncharacteristically hesitant.

“Okay,” Alex nodded.

“There’s a really nice girl who buys things from me sometimes, Sally her name is. As far as I know, Sally’s family are all Hopes. I’ve asked around as much as I can.”

“Okay,” Alex said again. He knew Grammy Nell was skillful at the kind of gossipy conversations that little old ladies tend to have, who’s related to whom, and who knew whose grandparents. Grammy Nell probably knew about this Sally’s antecedents back to the ark.

“What I mean is, I don’t think anything suspicious is going on.”

“Grammy Nell, you’re going to have to tell me what you’re talking about.”

“All right. I just didn’t want you to think I hadn’t checked.”

“It’s fine,” Alex told her, but Peggy could see that he was becoming impatient.

“Sally has been sort of hinting around. You know, being critical of King and the government and watching my reaction. The way you do if you want to see which side somebody’s on.” Grammy Nell was a Hope herself, but as far as most people knew, she had no interest in politics, and was just living out her modest retirement with occasional visits from her three “granddaughters” and their friends.

“You mean you think she’s suspicious of you because you’re selling and bartering?” Eliza asked. That didn’t make any sense, because all the Hopes and Deplos were involved with black market trading to some extent.

“No, but I think she might have surmised that I know a lot of people, since I sell such a variety of merchandise. I think she might either be in the Movement or maybe trying to get in. At least, that’s what I thought, but this week she started talking about her brother.”

“What about her brother?” Alex asked, his eyes narrowing. He didn’t like this at all. He didn’t like anybody who asked too many questions.

“Well, she told me in a very roundabout way that her brother was trying to work with the Movement. He graduated from college last June, and now that he’s out in the working world, he realizes how unfair things are, how much people are suffering, and he wants to help.”

“He’s just noticed that?” Gil asked sarcastically.

“I don’t know,” Grammy Nell admitted. “I certainly didn’t reveal any information to Sally. On the other hand, if she and her brother really want to help, you always need more help, right? And here’s the thing, the brother works in the customs office here in Philly, so if he seriously wants to be part of the Movement, he could be really useful.”

“Damn,” said Alex, “that sounds way too good to be true.”

“I’m not saying you should trust him,” Grammy Nell said, “but maybe you could talk to him?”

“What did you tell Sally?” Peggy asked.

“Nothing, really, I just did my dithery old lady thing. But then Sally gave me something that her brother wanted to give to, as she put it, anyone who might need help.”

“Money?” Alex asked.

Grammy Nell shook her head and went to the tiny pantry off the kitchen. She returned with two bottles of wine, which she placed on the table.

Gil checked the labels and said, _“Oh, là, là!”_

“ _Oh, là, là_ good or bad?” Alex asked.

“Oh, very good.”

“So this is supposed to go to ‘someone who needs help’?” Alex asked. “What kind of help, like help celebrating a wedding or something?” Nobody except top-level Haves was giving gifts like expensive bottles of wine.

“I think it’s meant to be a sort of good-will offering,” Grammy Nell said. “You know, a way of introducing himself.”

Alex considered for a minute, then turned to the others. “What do you think?”

“I say we accept the wine, at least,” Gil said.

“Yeah, okay, but do you think this sounds legit?”

“Maybe,” Eliza said, “But I don’t think you ought to meet with him until you discuss it with John and Herc and Angelica and Crazy Tony. Everybody’s got to be on board.”

“Eliza’s right,” Peggy said. “We can’t make a decision without their input.”

Alex shook his head. “That is not the way a military organization works.”

“If this were urgent, you’d have to make a decision right away,” Gil pointed out, “and then the military guidelines apply. But you can think this over and talk to everybody. In the meantime, we should drink the wine.”

“I think you already mentioned that,” Peggy reminded him.

“I’m French, _chérie_. Do you know how long it’s been since I have had a glass of decent wine?”

“Okay, putting aside the very generous gift of wine that this guy sent,” Alex said with a look at Gil, “let’s take it under advisement until we can consult with everybody else.”

They all nodded in agreement.

“Do you have his contact information?” Alex asked Grammy Nell.

“Right here,” she replied, handing him a piece of paper. “That’s his phone number. His name’s Aaron Burr.”


	7. That Boy Is Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The squad discusses what to do about Burr, and Eliza spills the beans about Angelica and TJ. The guys fake-fight like 12-year-olds. Flashback to Peggy and Gil's first hours alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you figure out who TJ's short girlfriend is. The Princeton connection is a huge clue. More fluffy stuff -- deal with it. Thanks for the kudos!

John, who was the best cook out of all of them, made meatloaf and a big pot of rice and beans for dinner. At Gil’s insistence, they opened one of the bottles of wine, and everyone had a small glass. Gil lobbied as well as he could for opening the second bottle, but Alex insisted they should save it, and Gil finally gave up.

After dinner, Peggy put Katie to bed, then they gathered around the table to discuss this Aaron Burr person who was trying to get in contact with them. While John had been cooking, Alex had been trying to find the guy online, but with no luck. Burr didn’t appear to use social media, and he wasn’t listed anywhere except for a couple of old references from Princeton. It looked like he had, in fact, graduated the previous June, so that part of the story was true. Alex was also able to confirm that a Sarah Burr, presumably Sally, had graduated from Penn two years ago. Not that this information meant much, but at least what they could check seemed to be true.

“Don’t we know anybody who went to Princeton?” Angelica asked. “Somebody who might have known this guy? Alex?”

“I’m thinking,” Alex claimed, tapping his phone. Alex was incapable of thinking without a phone or a pen in his hand. “I can’t get into the damn alumni page.”

“Angelica, what about TJ’s girlfriend?” Eliza asked. “Didn’t she go to Princeton?”

“TJ has a girlfriend?” Herc asked with interest.

Angelica frowned. “Who?” she asked.

“You know, the little one,” Eliza reminded her. “Short, thin, sniffled all the time? Allergies,” she added as an aside to the others.

“Oh, her? Okay, I remember her now. She never had much to say.”

“No, but she’s a computer genius, I swear. The whole time we were here with TJ, she handled all the tech stuff.”

“Did she?” Angelica asked, still frowning. “She was just so quiet, I hardly remember her.”

Eliza gave her sister the eyebrow. “Maybe because your attention was elsewhere,” she said.

Everybody turned to look at Angelica, who glared at Eliza.

“Really, Angelica? TJ?” Alex asked.

“I was bored, okay?” Angelica defended herself. “Anyway, Eliza, are you sure this girl is with TJ now?”

“Yeah, she was before they left for South Carolina. For those last couple of weeks after you decided that being bored without TJ was better than being bored even more by TJ.”

“Oh, snap!” John laughed.

“Okay, thank you Eliza, for making sure I can have absolutely no secrets here. Yes, everybody else, TJ and I sort of had a thing for a few weeks when Eliza and I first got here. It wasn’t anything serious, and as Eliza pointed out, TJ is pretty boring. So I guess now this short girl with constant allergies is his girlfriend, and maybe she went to Princeton.”

“I don’t suppose you remember her name or anything like that, do you?” Alex asked.

“Um, Maddie, wasn’t it?” Angelica asked Eliza.

Eliza nodded. “Maddie. That was it.”

“I can’t do much with that,” Alex pointed out. “Madeline, Madison, Matilda?”

Angelica shrugged.

“I don’t remember either,” Eliza admitted, “and I have no idea at all what her last name was. Can’t you just text TJ?”

“Yes, but I’m trying to keep the communications to a minimum. The more calls or texts, the higher chance of monitoring. And I’ll have to try to code it somehow – you think I should just text ‘Did your short allergic possible girlfriend go to Princeton?’”

“I think that’s perfect,” Eliza said.

It was fifty-fifty whether Alex would laugh at that or lose his temper. He looked at Eliza for a long minute, and then broke into a smile. She smiled back. “How about we take a break?” she suggested. “It’s been a long day, we’re all tired, and we can deal with this in the morning. You want to get Tony in on it anyway, don’t you?”

Alex nodded, and pulled Eliza to him for a kiss. “You know you keep me sane, right?” he asked her.

“I’m doing my best,” she replied.

“You need to try harder,” John said.

Alex punched John for that, so John had to punch him back, and Alex, stepping sideways to avoid John’s fist, tripped over his chair and went down. John jumped on top of him, and Alex yelled for help, so Gil joined the two on the floor, which brought Herc in on John’s side. Alex grabbed Herc’s ankle and pulled him down. He landed on top of John and knocked the air out of him – Herc probably outweighed John by forty pounds. John was laughing and gasping, trying to actually get a breath, and the only person he could reach was Gil, so he jabbed his elbow into Gil’s ribs.

“Ouch!” Gil yelled, “Damn, John, I’ll get you for that!” He grabbed a handful of John’s long, curly hair and yanked.

“Ow, ow, ow, cut it out!” John tried to pull away, which of course made things worse, and “Fuck, that hurts!” so he twisted around and tried to bite Gil’s hand. In the meantime, Alex had been left undefended, so Herc tried to get him in a head lock. All four of them were laughing as much as they were yelling, but Eliza decided to put a stop to the brawl before they actually hurt each other.

“Knock it off, guys!” she yelled, which had no effect.

Peggy came to her assistance. “I swear if you wake Katie up, you are sitting up with her until she goes back to sleep because I am not going to lose sleep over your nonsense.”

That got better results. Gil let go of John’s hair, and John was able to sit up, rubbing his head and muttering, “Fuck!” some more. Herc released Alex, who gave one last half-hearted kick toward John, and then they just sat there on the floor.

Gil held up his hand, from which a few golden-brown curly strands dangled. “I have scalped the enemy,” he declared with an exaggerated accent, and even Eliza started laughing.

“You are all crazy,” Angelica pronounced. “I swear, some days, I feel like I’m reliving seventh grade. Now good night. I’m going to bed.”

“Night, Mom,” John called after her, and the guys all hooted at that. Then they picked themselves up, straightened the furniture, and headed off in different directions.

The cabin only had two bedrooms, so when they all moved in, they had had to figure out sleeping arrangements that worked. One bedroom had a queen bed and space for Katie’s crib, so Gil and Peggy, as Katie’s de facto parents, got that. The other bedroom, which had apparently once been the kids’ room, had two sets of bunk beds. John and Herc took one set and Angelica and Eliza the other. Alex, who was the most likely to stay up late, get up early, or pace the floor all night, slept on the living room couch which unfolded into a bed. This plan seemed to serve pretty well, although rearrangements often occurred. With all of them living in such limited space, privacy wasn’t really possible, and except for Gil and Peggy, who were totally and exclusively monogamous, relationships seemed to be fluid. Most often, it was Eliza who spent the night with Alex on the sofa bed, but sometimes it was John, and occasionally Angelica. Peggy, two years into a struck-by-lightning love-at-first-sight relationship with Gil, didn’t understand it, but she didn’t judge it either. In uncertain times like these, you took love wherever you found it. She and Gil were luckier than most because they had found it in each other.

At the end of that first day she had been in Gil’s apartment back in New York, everyone else had finally gone home. Alex and John were going to drive Angelica and Eliza up to the cabin the next day, and Herc went back to his family’s small apartment. Gil and Alex had actually gone out and bought a crib, a car seat, and a high chair, and had set up the crib in Gil’s bedroom. The Schuyler sisters had one last moment together, one last group hug, and then Peggy found herself alone with Gil, except for Katie, who didn’t really count because, first, she was too little to understand anything that was going on, and second, she was asleep.

Peggy didn’t for a minute second-guess the admittedly illogical commitment she had made that afternoon, but she wasn’t quite sure what was going to come next. She sat on the couch while Gil put away the last of the dishes, and thought about the awkward conversation that was about to occur.

Gil came and sat down next to her. She stared at her feet.

Gil put one forefinger on her chin and turned her face toward him, “Hey, my little sheep,” he said very softly.

Peggy began to cry and he took her in his arms and rocked her back and forth as if she had been Katie’s age. “My poor little sheep,” he said, “you have had such a terrible time, and you have been so brave.” He stroked her hair and her back and didn’t say stupid things like everything was going to be all right. He just let her cry until she was done, and then took her face in his hands the way he had before and kissed her eyelids.

Peggy had had boyfriends, but this was Gil, as different from the clumsy high school boys as ice from fire. He lifted her onto his lap and kissed her gently.

“I have to talk to you,” Peggy said, pulling back before she lost herself in the kiss.

“Of course,” he agreed. “Talk to me about anything you want.”

“My sister told you I’m seventeen, right?” she started, not sure where to start.

“Yes.” He looked at her intently. “Are you thinking I am too old for you? Because really, five years is not very much …”

“No, no, not that,” Peggy broke in.

“Then …?”

She swallowed, and could feel the blush starting, “I’m thinking maybe I’m too young for you.”

“But I don’t understand. I know how old you are, and you are the perfect age because it is your age, and I wouldn’t want you to be any different from who you are. You are lovely and beautiful, and you have saved your baby sister under terrifying circumstances, and now you are here with me, and you are both safe, and I will keep you safe. And I love you. I suppose I should say that now, in case I didn’t make it clear earlier. It’s crazy, I know, but I love you anyway.”

Peggy didn’t trust herself to speak, and she saw Gil’s face change. He looked almost – afraid? Could Gil be afraid of something?

“Peggy, my sweet girl, have I pressured you? Making that declaration in front of everyone, did I not allow you a choice? Are you regretting …” and his voice broke on that, and she had to stop him.

“No!” she said fiercely, “No!” She leaned forward and tangled her hands in his beautiful curls and brought his face down to hers, and she kissed him.

He breathed a sigh of relief and the kiss deepened. Very gently, he teased her lips with his tongue as his hand stroked her cheek and then her throat. Peggy let herself melt into it and felt its warmth spread all through her body.

She had to tell him.

“Gil,” she said, pulling back again, “I’ve never … I haven’t …”

His eyes lit with understanding, and he began to smile. “This is what you mean about being too young for me?”

She nodded, blushing again. “I’m still a virgin.”

“And you think for some reason that might be a problem?”

She nodded again. “I don’t … Oh, God, I feel like such an idiot.”

Gil’s smile widened into a grin. “Oh, my Peggy, did you think I was going to sweep you off into bed now without even discussing it?”

“Well, we seemed to be making a pretty good start.”

Gil laughed out loud, and she thought, this is why I love him, because when things seem so complicated and difficult, he just laughs, and so she told him exactly that.

“Because nothing here is that complicated or difficult, my little sheep,” he said. “Someday we might have to face serious things, but this – this is easy.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Tell me again,” he said.

“I love you.”

“You see? Was it hard?”

“To love you? No, it’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Well, then,” he continued, with an elaborate wave of the hand, “everything will continue to be easy because I say so.”

“Okay,” she agreed, still not sure what was coming next, but willing to trust him.

“I think you’re probably very tired. You have been through an incredibly difficult day. You almost certainly need a good night’s sleep.”

She nodded.

“So, we have set up Katie’s crib in my bedroom for now. You will sleep in my bed. I will sleep out here on this couch, which is quite comfortable. At some point, perhaps, you might ask me to sleep with you – sleep, I mean, nothing more, if you are feeling anxious or frightened. If you ask, I will join you, but never without your asking me. And then, when you are ready, when you feel that it is the right time, you will say to me, ‘Gil, I would like to make love with you,’ and that day, we will move Katie’s crib into the hall, and that bedroom will become our room. This will happen because we love each other, but it will happen in our time, not on some contrived schedule. When you’re ready, Peggy. I will never pressure you. We have all the time in the world.”

She put her hand on his cheek. “I never expected someone like you,” she told him.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Just – when I used to think about who I might fall in love with, I never expected it to be somebody with crazy curly hair and infinite patience.”

He laughed. “And I never thought I would find a little sheep who would make me feel like I was filled with sunshine. In spite of everything, look at how lucky we are.”

He kissed her again.

“One more thing,” Peggy said. “Can I borrow a tee shirt? I don’t have any pajamas.”

“All I have is yours,” Gil told her.

An hour later, Peggy was in Gil’s bed, wearing a tee shirt that came almost to her knees and trying to sleep. Everything had seemed better when she and Gil had talked. She had felt reassured, but now, alone except for Katie’s soft breathing, she couldn’t push the scary thoughts out of her head. She heard her mother’s scream, and felt the cold dirt under her as she hid with Katie in the rocky alcove. She heard the crashing of the Greaters through the brush as they searched for her. She sat up.

“Gil,” she called softly.

_“Oui, petit mouton?”_

“Could you come sleep with me?”

He slipped into the bed beside her and wrapped his arms around her. She felt him softly kiss her hair. She turned and lay on her side, with her back to his chest, so she could feel him breathing.

This will be my life, she thought, and she was filled with wonder. This is the man I will spend my life with, and, thinking that, she fell asleep.


	8. Shut Him Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crazy Tony, Jack Sullivan, and Charlie Lee come over, and Charlie behaves like a complete jerk. Despite that, a plan is made on how to contact TJ's girlfriend Maddie. Peggy and Gil take a walk because Gil needs a cool-down moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gil has a history with Charles Lee. At some point, that will be revealed.

Crazy Tony had come by and brought Jack Sullivan and Charlie Lee with him. Everybody liked Jack, but Charlie was a jerk. They were all sitting around the table except for Katie, who was busily stacking plastic cups on the kitchen floor, and Peggy, who was keeping an eye on Katie while taking part in the conversation from the other side of the counter. Everybody had coffee and Herc and Jack were trying to out-Irish each other with their stupid jokes.

“Okay, here’s another one,” Jack said. “Why do the Irish wear shamrocks on St. Patrick’s Day?”

Herc just grinned and shook his head.

“Anybody?” Jack asked, looking around.

“No idea,” Angelica said, “but please don’t tell any more.” She looked to Alex for support, but he was deep in conversation with Tony over on the couch.

“Okay,” Jack said, “because actual rocks are too heavy! Ha! Get it? Sham-rock?”

“Please shut up,” Peggy entreated.

“Come on, Herc, you know more!” Jack continued, ignoring her.

“One more,” Herc agreed, “then we’ll stop.”

“Please let that be true,” Gil murmured, his face in his coffee cup.

“Listen now,” Herc commanded. “What’s Irish and stays outside all summer?”

“Irish mosquitoes,” John guessed.

“What are you talking about?” Eliza asked him. “That’s not funny.’

“Neither was the stupid rock joke.”

“Okay, Herc, just tell us,” Angelica said.

“Paddy O’Furniture!” Herc proclaimed, and he and Jack nearly fell off their chairs laughing.

“Yo, I don’t get it,” John said, and Angelica had to explain it.

Gil groaned and put his head down on the table.

“Wait, I’ve got one!” Charlie Lee piped up, and they all looked at him. Nobody liked Charlie. Alex thought he was too impressed with himself – funny coming from Alex, but at least Alex had something to be impressed about. Gil had known him for a long time, and mostly just didn’t bother speaking to him. He was seated next to him at the moment, but hadn’t even said hello. Peggy knew there was some sort of history there, but had never asked Gil for the details.

“Are you Irish?” Jack asked Charlie.

“Sure!”

Herc rolled his eyes, but said, “Okay, then, tell us the joke.”

“Right,” Charlie said, a big grin on his face. “So there’s this girl who runs into the police station, screaming and crying. The officer says, ‘What’s the matter, Miss?’ and she says, ‘I was raped by an Irishman!’ So the cop says, ‘How do you know it was an Irishman?’ and she says, ‘Because I had to help him!’”

There was dead silence around the table. Peggy picked up Katie and went to stand behind her sisters. Then Angelica said icily, “Oh, a rape joke. How hilarious.”

“What?” Charlie asked defensively. “You don’t think it’s funny?”

Gil turned to his left and looked Charlie in the eye. “Apologize,” he said.

“Oh, come on,” Charlie laughed.

“Apologize,” Gil repeated, calmly getting to his feet, “or I will hit you until you do.”

John got out of his chair and stood next to Gil. “I might hit you even if you do apologize.”

Herc turned to Jack. “This asshole said he was Irish,” he said.

Jack nodded. They both stood.

Charlie was still oblivious to how obnoxious he had been, but he stood up and faced Gil. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, French boy, but you want to go outside, fine.”

Gil jerked his head, and they took a few steps toward the door, but Alex and Tony had suddenly realized that something was going on.

“What the hell are you doing, Lee?” Tony asked, standing up.

“What are you asking me for?” Charlie muttered. “He’s the one who threatened me.”

“Gil?” Alex asked.

“He is offensive,” Gil said simply.

“Okay,” Alex agreed, “but …”

“He needs to apologize,” Gil said in the same calm tone.

Alex looked at John and Herc, and at Jack Sullivan. He looked at the Schuyler sisters, clustered tightly together. They were all furious. Alex knew his friends.

“Yeah, apologize, Lee,” he said.

“Why should I apologize?” Charlie demanded.

“Lee!” Crazy Tony said sharply.

“What?” Charlie snapped belligerently.

“Apologize, damn it!” Tony told him, taking a step closer to him.

“I don’t …”

“Now!” Tony snapped.

Lee’s mouth worked for a few seconds, then he looked at Gil and muttered, “Sorry.’

“Not to me,” Gil said softly. “Apologize to the women.”

“What the fuck? I just …”

“Lee!” Tony barked again. “Do it!”

Practically purple in the face, Lee turned to Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy. “I’m sorry if you were offended,” he spat out.

“Not ‘if’,” Gil said.

“What?”

“You don’t make a conditional apology for your offensiveness.”

Charlie Lee’s hands were balled up in fists at his sides, and he was shifting from one foot to the other, as if it was taking every ounce of energy he had to keep himself from punching Gil, who remained calm and unruffled.

“Tony, are you going to let him tell me …?” Lee demanded.

Tony stepped up closer to Charlie. “He’s right, you jackass,” he said. Charlie glared at him, but turned again to the women.

“I’m sorry for my stupid joke.”

Angelica nodded.

“Thank you,” Gil said, and sat down. John, Herc, and Jack followed his lead. Charlie Lee was left standing by himself with Crazy Tony a few inches away from him.

“Go back to the cabin,” Tony said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Charlie hesitated, but finally turned and stomped out, slamming the door behind him. Everybody took a breath.

Alex looked at Gil. “You want to tell me what that was about?” Gil shook his head.

“It was a rape joke,” Angelica said.

Alex was stunned. _“Jesus!”_ he said.

Tony turned to where the Schuyler sisters were still standing, “Hey, Angelica, Eliza, Peggy,” he began, obviously embarrassed, “I’m really sorry for …”

“You’re not responsible for him,” Eliza said.

“He’s in my squad,” Tony told her. It was true. Their semi-military organization was much looser that a real army’s, but each squad leader was to some extent responsible for what his squad members did. It was up to Tony to keep Lee in line. Under other circumstances, Tony might have just thrown Lee out, but they needed everyone they could get.

“Can we be done with this now?” John asked, before Alex could start making suggestions on how Tony should handle the incident.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Alex said. “Tony will deal with Lee, and we’ve got stuff to talk about. Is there any more coffee?”

“Making it now,” Peggy said, heading for the kitchen.

They all made their way back to the table and sat down. Tony still looked uncomfortable, but he accepted a cup of coffee in an Elmo mug.

“Seriously?” he asked, picking it up.

Angelica shrugged. “We’re not using the best china today.”

“Okay,” Alex said, phone in hand, “Tony knows who TJ’s short, sniffly girlfriend is, and he says she definitely went to Princeton.”

“Then she might know this Burr dude?” John asked.

“Hopefully.”

“Her name’s Maddie,” Tony said, “short for Madison. She graduated from Princeton more than a year ago, so she’s probably a little older than this Burr, but there’s a good chance she knows him, or at least knows something about him. I don’t think she was real active in campus life herself, so she may not, but I think you ought to talk to her before we meet with Burr. She might be able to give us some information.”

“The good thing is, Burr probably doesn’t know her,” Angelica said. “She was so quiet, you hardly knew she was around.”

“Except for the sniffling,” Eliza put in.

“Well, yeah, that,” Angelica agreed.

“So how did she hook up with TJ if she’s so shy and all?” Herc wanted to know.

“This may sound stupid,” Tony said, “but I think they really have a lot in common.”

Alex laughed. “TJ is not shy,” he said.

“No, not that, but they’re both really into technology, and they’re both pretty serious,” Tony said.

“If by ‘serious’ you mean ‘has no sense of humor,’” Angelica murmured into her coffee cup.

Tony gave her a skeptical look. “I seem to recall …” he began.

Angelica cut him off, “Ancient history,” she told him.

“Okay, but anyway, now TJ is with this Maddie, so we know she’s in South Carolina with him, and she would be a probable source of information on Burr before we meet with him,” Tony went on. “So we get a message to her, preferably untraceable and without using any names. Alex?”

“Untraceable I can do,” Alex said, “but it’s hard to ask for information on a specific person without using a name.”

“Don’t we have codes?” John asked.

“I’m using a phone, not a fucking Enigma machine,” Alex said.

“What about just calling her?” Eliza asked.

“When any phone call could be monitored? You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I mean just call and have a conversation totally about nothing that anybody would be interested in.”

“Eliza, what are you talking about?”

“I call Maddie …”

“You?”

“Yeah, I’ve actually met her. I know her, at least a little, so I call her as if we’re friends. Don’t have to use full names or anything. And then we just talk about stuff, how’s your boyfriend, yada-yada …”

“And you don’t have to say her boyfriend’s name,” Alex nodded, beginning to see where Eliza was going.

“Right, and then I mention I ran into an old friend of hers, Sally’s brother Aaron. If she knows him, and she’s as smart as everybody says she is, she’ll catch on. I mean, I’ll play it by ear, but I can make it sound like I might be interested in him, and I want her to dish anything she knows on the guy.”

“That’s genius,” Tony said. “Anybody who’s monitoring thinks he’s listening to a couple of gossipy girls.”

“Exactly,” Eliza agreed.

“So do we have a phone for Maddie?” Tony asked.

“No, but I have a bunch of numbers for TJ,” Alex said. “We should be able to get her.” He turned to Eliza. “You are brilliant,” he told her, smiling. She smiled back. “All right,” Alex continued, speaking only to Eliza now, “let’s work this out.” He pulled out a pen and some crumpled paper from a pocket and started making notes. Eliza might be making the call, but Alex would be calling the shots.

“I’m going to head on out, then,” Tony said to nobody in particular, since Alex wasn’t paying any attention. He took a couple of steps toward the door, then stopped, his eyes on a rifle leaning up against the wall. “Did Lee actually leave his gun here?” he asked in disgust. In his temper tantrum, Lee had gone off unarmed.

 _“Tant pis,”_ Gil muttered.

Tony picked up Lee’s gun and signaled for Jack to follow him; they all said brief goodbyes. They might have a plan for communicating with Maddie, but Charlie Lee’s behavior had left everyone feeling out of sorts.

John came into the kitchen and gave Peggy a hug. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Is Gil okay?”

Gil was still at the table, taking sips from a cup of coffee that must be cold by now. She looked at his back. “He was pretty mad,” she said to John.

“You think? Hey, you guys should go take a walk or something, go sit by the lake. It’d be good. Katie and I can color, right?” Katie loved coloring with John. They never had enough spare paper, so it was a huge treat for her. She jumped up into John’s arms and grabbed his hair.

Peggy leaned over and gave each of them a kiss on the cheek. “You’re sweet, John,” she said.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

She stood behind Gil and slid her arms around him. He took a deep breath and kissed her hand.

“Want to walk down to the lake?” she asked. “John’s babysitting.”

Gil stood up and turned around. “Good idea,” he said. He grabbed his gun off the rack by the door as they went out and threw the strap over his shoulder. He gave Peggy his left hand, and they went down the two steps to the clearing and then made their way down the narrow path to the lake. There was no beach, just rocks along the lakeside. Peggy sat on a flat rock and pulled him down next to her. The lake was like glass, the October colors of the trees reflected as in a mirror. Gil carefully put his gun down on the ground and wrapped his arms around Peggy. She leaned into him, and he kissed her hair.

“My lovely little sheep,” he murmured, and she smiled.

“You’ll call me that all my life, won’t you?”

“Mm-hm.”

She snuggled closer. “I should have brought a sweater,” she said.

“The yellow one that you were wearing the first time I saw you. The sunlight touched you just as you started to walk into the library, and I saw you.”

“And you fell in love with me at that moment,” she said. It was a story they told each other often.

“I did,” he agreed. “But you didn’t fall in love with me right away.”

“No, I didn’t fall in love with you until nearly an hour later, when you kissed me on the forehead.”

“A whole hour I loved you before you loved me,” he said, his lips grazing her cheek. “I spent that hour in fear.”

She turned and kissed him softly. “No, you didn’t. You knew.”

He kissed her eyelids and her forehead. “Mm. Maybe I did. But I didn’t believe in love at first sight.”

“Neither did I. And yet here we are.”

He lifted her up against him, so that she slid onto his lap. “Here we are.” Her head lay across his chest and he kissed the back of her neck.

“You were pretty mad at Charlie Lee today,” she said.

 _“Oui,”_ he responded, taking refuge in French. _“C’est un connard.”_

“You told me not to say that word,” she reminded him.

He shrugged. “Sometimes it’s useful.”

“Were you really going to hit him before Alex interrupted?” she asked.

“Oh, yes.”

“And if he hadn’t apologized?”

He kissed the back of her neck again, his lips sliding along her hairline. “I would have killed him,’ he said softly.


	9. That’s All You Had to Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Katie draw pictures of turtles. Eliza talks to Maddie and gets the scoop on Burr. Flashback to the time Gil was injured on a mission.

Katie jumped up and ran to them when they walked in the door.

“Unka John maka terkle!” she cried excitedly, waving a paper at them. “And I maka terkle too!”

“Really? That’s great, sweetie,” Peggy said, looking at the paper. There was a large green blob in the middle, surrounded by six smaller blobs. Peggy showed it to Gil.

“Wow!” he exclaimed, looking at Peggy for help. She shrugged and looked over at John, who was still sitting on the floor amid scattered crayons, laughing his head off.

“Terkle!” Katie declared.

“Hm,” Gil commented.

“Hey, John, isn’t this a great picture that Katie drew?’ Peggy asked.

“It really is,” John agreed, and then took pity on them. “It’s one of the best turtle drawings I’ve ever seen.”

That cleared that up.

“ _C’est une belle tortue, ma petite_ ,” Gil declared. He spoke French to her as much as he could so that she would learn it naturally as she grew up. It seemed to be working, since she mixed French words in with English. She called him and Peggy _Tonton_ and _Tatie_ , French for uncle and auntie.

“Terkle,” Katie corrected.

Gil picked her up. “English, turtle; _français, tortue_ ,” he said.

“English, terkle, _français, torti_ ,” Katie agreed.

“ _Très bien_!” Gil told her, and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

Peggy looked around. “Where is everybody?” she asked.

John stood up. “Alex and Eliza are in your room making that call to Maddie, Herc decided to take a nap, and Angelica took a walk.”

“By herself? Is she crazy?”

“She took her gun.”

“Yeah, but …”

John shrugged. “You ever had any luck telling Angelica not to do something?”

He had her there.

“She won’t be out long,” John said. “It’s getting dark.”

That didn’t do much to reassure Peggy, but she just nodded and helped him pick up the crayons and paper. Katie’s “terkle” portrait got a place of honor on the front of the refrigerator, and Peggy got out the leftover rice and beans to heat up for dinner. Herc got up and came out to help her, cutting up the little bit of meatloaf that was left and tossing that into the pot too. Food did not get thrown away, ever. They had plenty of food for the moment, but the food supply was dependent on Alex’s ability to hack cards, and that could be stymied by King’s forces at any time. Maybe this Burr guy could help. She looked over at the closed bedroom door. Of course Eliza would want to call from a quiet room, with no distractions from Katie, but Peggy’s curiosity was heightened. Angelica and Eliza knew TJ from having spent nearly two months with his squad back when they first went into hiding, but Peggy had never met him. TJ and Alex often disagreed on tactics, although they both had the same goal: overthrow King and hold free elections. They were both trusted by General Akhdir, so they had to work together. She didn’t know why TJ was in South Carolina, but then, she wouldn’t. Even when their own squad went out on a mission, the ones who stayed at home didn’t know where they were or what they were doing. Peggy didn’t go on missions. The rest of the group had decided that her primary responsibility was to Katie, and that was that, so if King’s guys found out where the cabin was, they would find her there. She couldn’t have any information that she might reveal.

“If the Greaters knock down that door,” Alex had said, pointing, “you can’t tell them anything, no matter what they do to you.” It was brutal, but it was necessary. The only other person who didn’t go on missions was Ben Rush from Tony’s squad, a former EMT who served as their de facto doctor. Time after time, she had to watch Gil leave, her heart in her throat, but it was part of their lives.

The first spring they’d been at the cabin, Alex, John, Gil, and Angelica had gone on a mission with most of Tony’s squad. That alone was unusual, since typical missions were four-person jobs at most. They'd sent Eliza down to Tony's cabin to wait with Ben Rush in case he needed help caring for injuries. The others had left at sunset, taking John’s Acura and Tony’s SUV, and had been gone all night. Peggy and Herc had taken turns pretending to sleep, but they both knew they were faking. Herc had told her stories about growing up in a big family in a tough neighborhood, and how he had dealt with bullies who made fun of him for liking to sew. He even made her smile a few times. They both jumped up at the first sounds at dawn, and Alex and Angelica walked in, dirty and exhausted. Peggy had grabbed her sister frantically.

“Where’s Gil?” she had choked out, shaking Angelica. “Where is he?"

“He’s okay, he’s okay,” Angelica had said, hugging her. “He’s hurt a little, but he’s okay.”

Peggy looked from Angelica to Alex, her eyes wide. She couldn’t ask, so Herc did.

“Where’s John?”

“He stayed with Gil,” Alex said. “Ben’s fixing him up, and John will have to drive him back here. John’s fine. Gil just needs some stitches and he’s a little woozy from losing blood, but he’ll be fine.”

“What …?” Peggy managed to get out. “Left leg, below the knee,” Alex told her. “Shrapnel. It’s messy, but not too deep. It’ll probably be hard for him to walk for a few days, so you can coddle him as much as you want.” Alex put his arm around her shoulders and held her. “We brought him back to you, baby girl.” She saw the tears in Alex’s eyes too, and she threw her arms around him and they both cried.

They had brought him back.

It was nearly two hours before she saw him, leaning on John and Jack Sullivan and trying to hop up the steps. His jeans had been cut off above his left knee, and his leg was bandaged from just below the knee to the ankle. He was so pale that he looked almost gray, and his jaw was set against the pain, but he looked up and smiled at her, and she cried some more. She had hugged him, and John, and Jack Sullivan, who had to take the car back, then she and Herc had gotten Gil into bed. He had looked up at her and said, “Fucking Ben didn’t have any fucking Novocain,” and had closed his eyes. Eliza came home later, dark circles around her eyes. When Peggy asked what Ben had had to do to Gil without Novocain, she wouldn't answer.

Days later, when he was hobbling around with the aid of two makeshift crutches that John and Herc had made, she had asked him what happened.

“We had to blow up the bridge before we were ready,” he had said. “Piece of it hit me.” That was the only explanation he gave.

The ragged scar ran down the outside of his leg, a lightning bolt from knee to ankle. It had taken a while to heal, but fortunately Ben had antibiotics, even if he was out of Novocain. Gil was fine, but he wouldn’t talk about it. She knew that particular mission hadn’t gone as planned. Gil wasn’t the only one who had been injured, and Alex claimed that John had somehow walked through an explosion without being hit by anything, but maybe that was just the guys telling each other stories. There was something off, though. If a mission was successful, they came back elated, high-fiving and laughing. The bridge mission had been different. Peggy wondered now what kinds of missions Alex was thinking of that Burr might be able to help them with from his position in the Customs office. She hoped it was more cyber-sabotage than exploding bridges, but there was no point in asking.

Angelica came in the front door and hung her gun on the rack. Peggy gave a sigh of relief.

“That isn’t the smartest thing you’ve ever done, Ange,” she said.

“True,” Angelica agreed. She didn’t feel like arguing. “Sometimes I just can’t stand it in here.”

“I know. But please be safe.”

Angelica nodded. “Eliza still on the phone?” she asked.

“As far as I know.”

“Wow, Maddie must be talking more in this conversation than she did in all the weeks I knew her here.”

“Let’s hope she’s saying something useful.”

A minute later the bedroom door opened and Alex and Eliza came out, looking very pleased with themselves. Angelica gave Peggy a speculative glance, but Peggy pretended not to see it. They all had to do a certain amount of looking the other way in order to protect one another, and Peggy didn’t ask awkward questions, even in her thoughts.

“Maddie spilled the beans on Burr,” Alex announced with satisfaction. He sat down on the couch and pulled Eliza down next to him.

“So she knew him at Princeton?” John asked.

“She knew him quite well,” Alex said. “Much better than we thought.”

“What do you mean, like they were dating or something?”

“Definitely ‘or something,’” Alex replied.

“Wow, who would have thought? Sniffly little Maddie with Burr and now with TJ,” Angelica commented.

“You don’t like her much, do you?” Peggy asked.

Angelica shrugged. “I barely know her.”

“But there’s something …” Herc put in.

“Yeah, I guess there is,” Angelica admitted. “She just never asserted herself, never seemed to have an opinion, never spoke up. I can’t figure out how she ever had enough of a conversation that a relationship started.”

“So you didn’t like her because she was shy?” Herc asked.

“No, it wasn’t that.” Angelica stopped and thought for a minute. “You know, maybe it was. I don’t have time for people who never express themselves and expect other people to know what they’re thinking. If you have an opinion, say something, and then it can be dealt with.”

“Words to live by,” Gil agreed.

Angelica smiled at him. “Well, it’s what we all do here, and we manage. You have no idea how glad I was to see Alex after six weeks of TJ talking about nothing but TJ and Maddie not talking at all, and the rest of the squad playing pinochle. I HATE pinochle.”

Alex laughed. “And I thought you were glad to see me because you love me and had missed me so much.”

“Well, maybe that a little,” Angelica conceded.

“Anyway,” said Eliza, trying to get them back on track, “Maddie gave us some solid advice about Burr. Oh, and by the way, she’s really, really smart. She caught on instantly to what we were doing and played along like a professional. If anybody monitored, they would have thought we were a couple of tenth graders giggling about boys.”

“Excellent work, my dear,” Alex commended her with a quick kiss.

“So,” Eliza continued, “Burr’s family were Hopes, but pretty well-off, and probably would have made the step up into Haves if the insurrection hadn’t happened. It’s possible Burr has a foot in each camp there. On the other hand, he’s never going to advance if he just stays in his little Customs office job. It’s really just a clerkship, no path out unless he does something spectacular. The good thing is, he tracks shipments in and out of the port of Philadelphia.” She paused here for dramatic effect, and Peggy saw Gil’s face light up.

“So, shipments, supplies, all kinds of cargo?” he asked.

Eliza nodded. “Yes. He doesn’t control it, but he keeps the records, so he knows where everything is at any given time.”

Gil looked at Alex. “I think that might be useful information to have,” he said.

“Oh, yes,” Alex agreed.

“Now here’s the difficult part,” Eliza continued. “Maddie says Burr is secretive, doesn’t share much. We have to consider the possibility that his loyalty is to King, and he’s trying to find out more about the Movement. Locating a couple of cells – that would be Tony’s squad and us – might get him a career reward, a promotion or a transfer to a different department, which Maddie is sure he wants.”

“So meeting with him is risky,” Gil said.

“Definitely,” Alex agreed, “but think of the information he could give us.”

“Or think of the Greaters knocking on the door,” John pointed out.

“I think we ought to at least meet with him once to feel him out,” Alex said, “but we should play dumb if he asks questions.”

Gil nodded. “That lets you out, Alex, since you are not capable of playing dumb.”

“What do you mean?”

John laughed. “Come on, Alex, you know if he pushes your buttons, you’ll start showing off.”

“I do not show off!” They all laughed at that, and Alex looked insulted. He thought for a minute. “So who do you think should meet with him?” he asked, apparently accepting his reputation as a show-off.

“Gil or Angelica,” John said.

"No,” Herc spoke up. “Angelica’s too sarcastic, and Gil’s too … um, French.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Gil asked.

"You know, you get pissed off, you’ll start speaking French, and you won’t find out anything about him.”

Gil turned to Peggy. “Is that true?” he asked.

“It could happen,” she said cautiously.

Gil turned back to Herc. “ _Crétin,_ ” he said.

“See?” Herc countered.

“Damn.”

“Okay, back to the point,” Eliza said. “Who meets with Burr? Unless you want somebody from Tony’s squad to do it?” There was a chorus of no’s to that.

“I think it should be you, Eliza,” Peggy said.

“Me?”

Alex nodded. “That’s not a bad suggestions. You’re diplomatic, which I’m not.”

“True,” Eliza agreed.

“You won’t lose your temper. You’re patient, and if he irritates you, you won’t get sarcastic or swear at him in French. And you’re friendly!”

“I’m friendly?” Eliza asked, not sure how to take that.

“He’s right,” Angelica said. “You’re nicer than I could ever be. People open up to you.”

“Meeting him won’t be risky,” Alex assured her. “We’ll be nearby.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Eliza said.

“So?”

“So, okay, if that’s the consensus, I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want translations of the French, let me know. I think most of it is pretty obvious in context, and there's always Google translate, but I know it can be annoying. I'm trying not to use too much of it, but Gil wants to speak French all the time.  
> Let me know what you like and don't like. This is a story with a very fluid outline, so I can bend it a little. I'm thinking of starting another one, because of course I have unlimited free time [insert eye roll], with the backstory on what happened when Eliza and Angelica stayed with TJ's squad. Whaddaya think?  
> Thanks for the kudos!


	10. Set My Heart Aflame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All about relationships, and almost all Peggy and Gil. Alex only gets to say a few words, and you know how hard it is to shut him up. Lots of love in this chapter, so much that I had to change the rating to Mature.

Peggy lay curled against Gil in bed, her head on his shoulder as he played with her hair. Across the room, Katie slept soundly in her crib. The butterfly nightlight in the corner illuminated the room just a little. Gil said he’d bought it for Katie, but it was really so that he could see his lovely girl at night.

“Alex and Eliza may or may not have made love in our bed this afternoon,” Peggy said.

“I don’t mind,” he told her, winding a curl around his finger.

“Me either. Sometimes …”

“Sometimes?”

She propped herself up on her elbow.

“Do you think Alex loves Eliza the way you love me?” she asked him.

He pulled her closer and buried his face in her curls. She sighed, and Gil kissed his favorite spot on the back of her neck..

“ _Ma chérie,_ ” he whispered, “no one loves anyone the way I love you.”

“I know,” she said, her voice a little troubled. “I don’t think it happens to other people.”

 “Mm?”

“Not to my sisters,” she said.

“Are we talking about Alex and Eliza now?” he asked.

“And Angelica.”

“And John,” he added.

“Herc?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “Herc and John, though.”

“I want them all to be happy,” she said, “because they’re our family. I love them more than I love anybody except you and Katie.”

“What makes you think they aren’t happy?”

She shrugged and rolled over so she could see his face.

“Are they?”

“My dear little sheep, I think they are as happy as they can be. They’re not happy in the same way you and I are happy, but we wouldn’t be happy in their way.”

“Angelica said to me once that she’d never seen anybody’s first boyfriend relationship work out.”

“Are we proving it to her yet?” he asked.

“Angelica’s different from me. She wouldn’t be satisfied. She’d always be wondering if there was something more out there somewhere.”

“That’s why Angelica can’t be with someone the way you’re with me.”

“But Angelica and Eliza and John are all in love with Alex, aren’t they?”

He was silent for a minute. “I suppose. But you have to understand, Alex is not an ordinary person. There should be more of him.”

“What?”

“I don’t know if I can explain. He should have been twins, or triplets, or even more. There is so much of him, too much of him. He has too much intelligence, too much energy, too much passion of all kinds. He couldn’t possibly be satisfied with one person. It would never be enough for him.”

Peggy reflected on that for a few minutes. It made sense, sort of.

“But you think they’re okay?”

“They’re okay.”

She snuggled closer to him. “I love my sisters,” she said sleepily.

“The famous Schuyler sisters,” he smiled. “When I first saw your picture, I told Alex you were pretty, and he said, ‘She’s a Schuyler sister,’ as if it was obvious.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Katie, too, huh?”

“ _Elle sera la plus belle de toutes._ ”

“Mm, okay. I promise I won’t be jealous.”

He kissed her hair again. “ _Bonne nuit, petit mouton.”_  

_*   *   *   *   *  
_

The first two weeks in Gil’s apartment, she had tried every night to go to sleep by herself, but every night, the anxiety had risen, and she had called for him. He never took it for granted, and he never showed any sign of impatience. He would hold her and whisper to her, and sometimes sing her lullabies in French until she slept. He never let her know how his whole body ached for her. He had promised that she would be the one to decide when.

During the day, he went to class, and she took care of Katie. They fell into a sort of domestic pattern, with Gil out for most of the day and Peggy not having a job or school to go to. John had delivered the promised ID, so for now she was Adrienne de Noailles, which she really had to work hard to learn to pronounce, age twenty, born in Lyon, France. When people commented on how well she spoke English, she would say that she’d studied English in school and had spent summers visiting her mother’s cousins in California. Fortunately, hardly anyone ever tried to speak French with her. Her French was decent (and getting better, thanks to Gil), but she would never pass for a native. She would just laugh and say she preferred to speak English for the practice. Everyone accepted Katie as her daughter, and the few people she told – young mothers in the park mostly – were enthralled with the romantic story Gil had created.

“And you broke up without even telling him you were pregnant?” Sydney, a brunette with big round glasses, had asked.

“Right,” Peggy nodded. “I didn’t want him to feel pressured.”

“And you were just going to raise her by yourself?”

“Well, with my family.” She still couldn’t say _mom_ without choking up.

“How did he find out?” Sydney wanted to know.

“My brother felt that I was being unfair, and decided to call Gil and tell him. I was so angry!” Peggy did a good job of faking anger at her mythical brother Julien.

“But look how well it worked out!” Sydney exclaimed enviously. Her love story wasn’t nearly as romantic, as she had met Brad in college and their courtship had proceeded uneventfully. They were Haves, and Sydney stayed home with Liam, who was two months older than Katie. Liam had a stroller with more accessories than Gil’s car, and Sydney had the sort of perfect hair and perfect nails that young Have women always displayed. She wasn’t really a very interesting person, but Peggy wanted to be sure her identity story got around, so Sydney was useful.

It took Peggy more than a week to realize that Gil had a lot of money. He paid for everything with credit cards, and then paid the balance off each month. His bank account was refilled periodically with money from a trust fund that seemed to be inexhaustible. He would have been welcomed into the Haves if he had chosen to join, but he despised them, along with King, and the repressive government. With Gil providing financially, and with no job or school, she was beginning to feel like a child playing house. She wasn’t comfortable with it.

Alex and John and Herc would come over a lot, and Alex would pass on messages from her sisters. She didn’t know where they were, but she knew they were safe with TJ, whoever he might be. On a Monday night, Alex and John were sitting on the living room floor, eating the chocolate chip cookies that she had baked, and playing some sort of board game with Gil. It had to do with military history, and she found it impossible to follow, but at about ten o’clock, Alex jumped up and yelled, “Yes! Constantinople has fallen!”

“Damn,” John said, sounding dejected but not angry. “We had lousy defenses, Gil.”

“I’m not a military man,” Gil told him.

“Not yet,” Alex added, with a significant look.

Peggy knew that Gil was part of the Movement, but he and John and Herc didn't have military responsibilities because they were still in school. Only Alex went out on missions, and of course she knew nothing about them.

John and Alex left, and Gil went to take a shower. That night she lay awake in his arms for hours, thinking.

On Tuesdays, Gil had class until five o’clock, so he usually picked up dinner on the way home. When he walked in at a quarter of six with burgers, he noticed that the apartment looked different. A small bookshelf had been moved from the alcove at the end of the hall to a corner of the living room, and Katie’s crib now occupied the alcove. Katie herself was seated on the floor chewing on her brightly colored stacking rings. He dropped the bag of burgers, his keys and his wallet on the counter and swooped Peggy up in his arms. He spun her around the room, laughing, until she was giddy too, and Katie shrieked in delight.

Of course he laughed, Peggy was thinking. That was what Gil did when things were difficult. He laughed and made them easy.

He was kissing her, and she said, “We have to wait till Katie’s asleep.”

He nodded. Katie, thank God, went to bed promptly at seven-thirty, and was a sound sleeper.

“Burgers?” he offered.

“Um, maybe not,” Peggy said. “I don’t think there’s room in my stomach because of all the butterflies.”

He took her face in his hands. “It will be fine,” he said.

She nodded. “I know. But no burgers for now.”

“I love you,” he told her, giving her one more spin, and they both laughed. A good way to begin, she thought, laughing.

For the next hour and a half, they both pretended as hard as they could that nothing was different. Gil locked the door and turned off his phone. Every time Peggy caught his eye, he grinned at her. She played with Katie, gave her a bath, and finally tucked her into her crib with her Minnie Mouse blanket. They turned off the hall light and all the other lights except a small table lamp in the living room. Within a few minutes, Katie was asleep, and Peggy’s butterflies were flapping their wings wildly. Gil turned to her and held out his hand.

“Come with me?” he made it a question, not a command.

She gave him her hand and he led her to the bedroom. He sat down on the bed, and she sat next to him.

“First,” he said, turning her face to his with a fingertip, “are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she told him. “I’ve thought about it, and I don’t know why I wasn’t sure two weeks ago.”

“It’s okay to take your time,” he said.

“I know, but it took me about an hour to know I loved you, and not much more than that for us to decide that we were going to be together, really together, not just dating. Two weeks ago, you mentioned our prospective grandchildren, and I knew then that someday we would have them. Last night, I asked myself what in the world I was waiting for, and there was nothing. I love you in a way I’ve never loved anybody, and you love me the same way. Why did I think I had to wait?”

He took both her hands in his. “That sounds very wise, _petit mouton_ ,” he said, and kissed her gently. They had done plenty of kissing in the past two weeks, but there had always been a known boundary. Now there wasn’t.

Gil stood up and turned down the bed. He turned off the overhead light and left just the bedside lamp on.

They were both barefoot, but they were wearing jeans and tee shirts.

“I would like to help you get undressed,” he said, and she nodded.

He carefully pulled her tee shirt over her head, then unzipped her jeans and pulled them down. She was wearing a pink bra and white panties.

“Look how beautiful you are,” he whispered, and she was startled to see his eyes fill with tears and then overflow.

She reached out and touched a tear on his cheek. “Why?” she asked.

“Because I am so, so lucky that you love me.”

She kissed his eyelids, kissed away the tears on his cheeks. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

His tee shirt and jeans went on the floor with hers, and he was wearing boxers, blue against his brown skin. He lifted her onto the bed and lay down beside her. They had done this for two weeks, lain in bed close together like this, but in the dark, and with clothes on.

He reached over and traced her jaw, her throat, and then, very slowly, the swell of her breast above the top of the pink bra. He leaned in and kissed her right where his finger had stopped. She could barely get her breath.

“Listen, my sweet girl,” he said, “I know you are a virgin, but we haven’t even talked about what that means. There are girls who are virgins but who have some experience. I don’t think that’s you.”

She shook her head, intensely aware that his hand was still right there at the edge of her bra.

“Tell me,” he said softly.

“Before you, just stupid teenage stuff at parties. None of the guys even knew how to kiss, really.” She gave a little snort. “I didn’t realize that then, but I do now. You don’t try to swallow my face when you kiss me.”

He laughed out loud. “I’m sorry, _mon coeur_ , that you had unhappy kissing experiences.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’ll never have another unhappy kissing experience.”

“I promise,” he said. “Anything else? Please understand, I’m not trying to embarrass you or cross examine you about your life before me. I just don’t want to rush you or, God forbid, scare you.”

“The only other thing is that Steve Pendleton shoved his hand up my shirt at the Fourth of July party while we were watching the fireworks. I told him to stop, and he didn’t, so there was a bit of a struggle.”

“What became of him?” Gil asked.

“Angelica showed up with a baseball bat and told him she’d break his arm.”

Gil grinned. “My thanks to Angelica,” he said.

“That’s all,” Peggy told him. “The sum total of my sexual experience. I think Angelica and Eliza were way ahead of me at seventeen. Angelica for sure.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “It’s not a competition. We’re going to go very slowly. If I do anything that you don’t like, or that makes you uncomfortable, tell me right away, okay?’

She nodded.

“Know that I love you. I want to make you feel good. I want to show you what making love is. It’s very different from ‘having sex.’”

He kissed her, softly at first, and then began to explore her mouth with his tongue. He flicked the corners of her mouth and then kissed her throat. He could feel the pulse fluttering, and he wished he could take away whatever anxiety she had, wished he could lift her into the pleasure that he knew he could make her feel. Soon maybe. Kissed her over her heart and felt it beating.

“I’d like to take off your bra,” he said, sliding his hand under her.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

He undid the hook and slipped the bra off. It went on the floor. He sat up and looked at her, his eyes going from her face to her breasts. He’d never seen anything more beautiful. He kissed each breast, and she gasped. He put his tongue to her nipples, and her breathing quickened.

“Will you tell me how it feels?” he asked quietly.

“It’s … I want you to keep doing it.”

“So it’s good?”

“Mm-hm.”

He took her right nipple in his mouth and sucked it, just a little, just enough to pull on it a bit. No teeth, no pressure. There would be time for that later, when Peggy had learned what her body was capable of. He thought of all the years ahead of them to love one another, and he was almost overwhelmed. He moved to her left nipple and took his time, his mouth on one nipple, and the other in his hand, back and forth, and Peggy arched up to him.

“Where do you feel it?” he whispered.

She put her hand between her legs, blushing, but her brown eyes were wide and shining.

“Mm-hm, that’s good,” he said. “Is it okay if I take your panties off?”

She nodded, and he pulled them off, his finger tracing the edge of her labia as he did it. She gasped. He placed his thumb on the swollen knot just above her vagina, and began to massage it, slowly, then a little faster, and he heard her moan. He kept going until she was moving under his hand, then he slipped his finger inside and found her wet and slippery, and it was almost more than he could bear. He pulled away for an instant to get his boxers off and the condom on, and then he slid between her legs.

“ _Ma chérie, mon coeur, ma belle,”_ he whispered. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yes. Please, yes,” she told him, her eyes bright.

“My God, you’re so beautiful,” he said, and began gently, his thumb still circling. She caught her breath as he entered her slowly, and he waited, giving her time, telling her how beautiful she was and how much he loved her before he began to move again, and she gasped as he filled her.

"Oh, Gil, yes," she breathed, and she lifted her hips to meet him.  He pushed all the way in, and he rocked and rocked until he felt her spasms, and then finally, finally, the waiting was over.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A hard scene to write, as I wanted you to see it from Gil's point of view more than Peggy's. I'm a girl, so ...  
> Does it work?


	11. It Feels More Like a Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A longish chapter, but almost all flashback: Peggy and Gil begin their life together. Gil makes some confessions. Alex spreads misinformation at Katie's first birthday party. Things are happening in the Movement.

November 9 was Katie’s birthday. She would be three. She had no memory of her first home, the big comfortable brick house, no memory either of her parents. Peggy didn’t know if she, Eliza, and Angelica were lucky or unlucky in their memories. Unlike Katie, they had been able to know their parents, their loving father with his easy smile, and their tall, graceful mother with dark brown eyes like all of her girls. Knowing their love, though, meant knowing their loss and missing them, especially on birthdays.

Katie’s first birthday had been celebrated in Gil’s apartment. Peggy looked back now on those few lovely weeks when she and Gil and Katie had lived in an almost magical bubble. Gil’s money protected his place at the university and provided whatever they needed. John’s superbly forged ID’s kept Peggy and Katie safe from inquiries. Alex had even been able to get their names on a list of passengers recently arrived from France by hacking into an airline’s site. The cover story was seamless.

Some days she marveled at how her life had changed. She felt like an entirely different person – not Peggy Schuyler, high school senior, but Adrienne de Noailles, a capable young woman living with her lover and their child. In many ways she was more Adrienne than Peggy now. The girl who a few weeks ago had been embarrassed to talk to Gil about sex found herself having conversations with him that would have astonished her former self.

“I have to confess something to you,” Gil had said after their first night together.

“What?” she asked warily.

“I’ve never worn clothes to bed until you were here.”

Peggy burst out laughing. “So are you saying you’ve changed your habits?”

“No, I’m saying I’m going back to my old ways and starting now, no more clothes in bed.”

“Wait, is that some sort of household rule? Because …”

“No, no, of course not. And anyway, I think you look cute in my tee shirts.”

Later, curled against him in bed, she murmured, “Any more confessions you need to make?”

“Mm, maybe.” He sounded surprisingly serious.

“I was joking, really,” she said. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”

“But I think I want to.” He propped himself up on an elbow and looked at her. “I want to tell you because I think you feel like this is all new to you, but because I have had more, mm, experience than you, that I’m not as – I can’t find the right word – touched by it, maybe? That it is somehow less important for me.”

“No,” she said, “I don’t think so, really. But it’s not all new to you the way it is to me.”

“Let me tell you, then.” His accent was stronger, as it always was at the end of the day when he was sleepy. “The first time I had sex, I was fifteen. It was a neighbor girl. She was eighteen, and she thought I was cute.”

“You probably were,” Peggy told him, smiling.

“Mm, maybe. But anyway, it was an introduction. Most teenage boys, if there’s an opportunity, they will take it, so once Fabienne had, let’s say, acquainted me with the basics, I took every opportunity that was offered me. There were a lot of girls. Then as I got older, I had some girlfriends, maybe I’d be with a girl for a few months or even a year. Honestly, I don’t even know how many. I liked them all, and I tried to be kind.”

Peggy nodded, feeling a little out of her depth. “Do you think I mind, or something?” she asked. “I don’t care what you did before you even knew me.”

“No, it’s not that.” He pulled her close and kissed her. “It’s what I didn’t do.” He smiled and ran his hand over his face as if he were embarrassed. “I’m having trouble finding words tonight.”

“Would it be easier in French?” she asked him. “I could try …”

“No, the language isn’t the problem. Listen, my little sheep, never before have I made love to a girl who was a virgin. I was never any woman’s first lover. That didn’t mean anything to me then, and if you hadn’t been a virgin, that wouldn’t have mattered, do you understand? But I want you to know that last night was a new experience for me too. We’re coming to this together. And that’s the other thing. I’ve been with lots of girls that I liked, some that maybe I loved. But before last night I’d never made love to the one woman that I will love for the rest of my life. It’s a completely different feeling – I can’t explain it, except that it’s all new to me.”

“So we’re starting together,” she said.

“Yes. We’re in the same place, at the beginning.”

The beginning of their new life together. She and Gil and Katie, and the assurance of love.

It wasn’t that they didn’t have anxieties. They weren’t stupid or naïve. Peggy missed Angelica and Eliza all the time. When she had been home in the brick house in Albany, they had texted almost every day. Peggy had depended on them to be there when she needed them. Now, having lost their phone licenses along with their student status, they could only get messages through Alex, and that not often, since he had to keep his phones secure. That was a constant reminder that the world had changed.

The hardest, though, was not knowing where her parents were or what was happening to them. The Alien and Sedition Act had revoked the rights of those charged with sedition. After all, King said, national security came first. That meant that alleged seditionists just disappeared. Peggy wanted to believe that her parents were safe somewhere – locked up, maybe, but safe. She wanted to believe that she would see them again, that Katie would know them and love them as she should, that they would meet her amazing Gil. She even indulged in silly schoolgirl daydreams of her dad walking her down the aisle, with Eliza and Angelica as bridesmaids and Katie as an adorable little flower girl. That’s what she was thinking about as she folded pink birthday napkins into triangles. They were having a simple celebration. Alex, John, and Herc were coming over, of course, and, in the interests of keeping their cover secure, Peggy had invited Sydney and Brad with their son Liam. That hadn’t really been her choice, but Alex had pushed for it, and Alex knew what he was doing. Peggy was sure he had something up his sleeve, but she couldn’t get him to discuss it. Everyone would be there at six, for sandwiches and cake.  

She folded the napkins and talked to Katie about the party, while Katie, bravely trying out new skills, let go of the couch and took four steps to the chair, looking up and smiling in triumph. Peggy applauded, Katie tried to clap too, lost her balance and sat down hard. She let out a small cry of frustration.

“You’re fine,” Peggy told her. “You can get back up.”

She did, and was starting the return trip to the couch when Gil came in, carrying the bakery box with Katie’s cake. He kissed both his girls, and picked Katie up to show her the cake.

“She probably doesn’t actually understand the concept of birthdays,” Peggy reminded him.

“Don’t be silly,” Gil told her. “Katie understands far more than we know.”

As if to prove this, Katie tried to pull him down to the floor with her, and when he cooperated, stuck out both her hands in tight little fists and turned them back and forth. Gil hid his face and groaned. “Again?”

“Ha! Serves you right!” Peggy said. Gil had been delighted at first when Katie had learned the gestures to the French children’s song _“Ainsi Font, Font, Font,”_ but now she wanted him to sing it to her every minute.

“Maybe Tatie could sing it for you,” he offered.

“Tatie doesn’t know all the words, Tonton,” Peggy pointed out.

“You could learn,” he said.

“Not a chance. You started this.”

Gil gave a sigh, then turned to Katie and began singing _“Ainsi font, font, font, les petites marionnettes_ …” while Katie blissfully twirled her little hands.

They were still at it fifteen minutes later when Alex, John, and Herc arrived.

 _“Salut les amis!”_ Gil called from the living room floor, and they went in to see what he was doing.

“Oh, my God, I remember that song!” Alex exclaimed. Alex had spent his childhood on various islands in the Caribbean and was fluent in both French and Spanish.

 _“Ah, bon?”_ Gil asked hopefully. “Katie, Uncle Alex wants to sing with us!”

Alex thought that was adorable and joined in, while John and Herc rolled their eyes and came to talk to Peggy in the kitchen.

“Gil is like a total dad,” John commented, helping himself to chips.

“Uncle,” Peggy reminded him. “Actually, more like brother-in-law, but that’s just weird.”

Gil joined them, grinning. “I have turned the _petites marionnettes_ over to Alex,” he said. “I need a break.”

“When are the Have guests arriving?” asked Herc with a grimace.

“About twenty minutes,” she replied, “and it was Alex who insisted.”

“I wonder what he’s up to,” John muttered.

“Misinformation, I suspect,” Gil said.

“Why doesn’t he tell us?” Peggy asked.

“Because he’s Alex,” Gil told her. “Just pay attention and follow his lead.”

Alex himself stepped into the kitchen just then, and they heard a wail from Katie.

“You just abandoned her?” Gil asked. “You are a horrible person.”

“I really can’t sing that song one more time,” Alex complained. Katie continued to cry.

“Here, Herc, finish setting up the table. You’ll do a better job than I will anyway,” Peggy said, and went to get Katie.

“Right,” Herc agreed, “we need to move the plates. It’s not symmetrical.”

“Listen up, everybody,” Alex said. “Don’t forget that Peggy is Adrienne.” He pronounced it in French, as did Gil, but John and Herc called her Adrian. “Oh, and for tonight, I’m Gil’s cousin Alexandre, recently arrived from the lovely isle of Martinique in the Caribbean.”

“Okay, why?” Gil asked.

“I don’t go to college anymore. I’ve got to have a plausible reason for hanging out with you guys. Oh, and I met John through you, so I’m staying at his place.”

“Well, that makes sense since you actually live with me,” John said.

Alex took John’s hand and batted his eyelashes. “John and I are very close friends.”

“No shit,” Herc commented.

“We’re going to make sure Peggy’s Have friends pick up on that,” Alex told them.

“You’re doing fine with it,” Peggy said drily.

“Why?” Gil asked.

“I don’t want them to like me much.”

Gil looked at him thoughtfully. “It should be easy for you to make that work, even without falling all over John.”

“Yeah, but not as much fun.” Alex was looking mischievous. Sometimes Peggy thought he actually made things more complicated than they had to be, just so he could show off. But Alex was Alex, as Gil had said, and he was the one who had stepped up and taken charge and was keeping her and her sisters safe. They trusted him.

There was a knock at the door and Gil opened it to admit the perfectly-groomed Sydney with her husband Brad and small son Liam. There were introductions all around, and then Peggy did her best at playing hostess, while everybody helped themselves to sandwiches and took seats wherever there was room. It wasn’t a big apartment, so Gil and Herc ended up sitting on the floor playing with Katie and Liam. Sydney and Brad got the couch, while John sat in the big chair with Alex perched on the arm, leaning over him in just the cutest way he could. Peggy didn’t dare meet Gil’s eyes for fear they would both start laughing, as Alex lovingly brushed a strand of John’s curly hair off his forehead or draped an arm around his shoulders. Brad and Sydney maintained polite smiles and polite conversation, but Peggy was pretty sure Brad felt uncomfortable with this crowd. Good, if that’s what Alex wanted.

 _“Est-ce que tu as entendu rien de nouveau quand tu es passé par la Floride?”_ Gil asked Alex, evidently having been prepped, because Alex hadn’t been anywhere near Florida for ages.

Alex looked around a bit guiltily. “No, nothing, and it’s probably not polite to speak French when not everybody understands it.” His slight French accent was very well done.

Gil was irritated, and Peggy realized that Alex had set him up, and that Gil’s legitimate reaction was more convincing than any act would be.

“So everything is okay there?” Gil asked more pointedly.

Across the room, Brad was looking interested.

 _“Oui, tout à fait,”_ Alex replied, with a quelling look. He turned back to John and petted his hair sweetly. _“Tu veux un Coca?”_

John smiled up at him indulgently. “English. Spanish. No French.”

Alex laughed, “Oh, sorry, it’s so confusing when I’m switching back and forth between languages. Do you want a Coke?’

“Sure,” John agreed.

“Anybody else?” Alex asked helpfully and went to get drinks.

When he came back, Brad asked, “Did I hear you say something about Florida? Were you there recently?”

“Oh, yes, but just passing through. I didn’t spend any time there. Did you want Coke or Sprite?” Alex was very obviously trying to change the subject.

Brad pursued anyway. “How are things going in Florida? I heard there was some trouble there.”

Alex shrugged. “Well, in these times, there’s trouble everywhere. You know, central Florida … well, but there really wasn’t anything. Just talk, I think.” He handed John a Coke and said, “Here you are, sweetie.”

Brad and his wife rolled their eyes at each other. Peggy looked at her feet so she wouldn’t laugh.

It was John’s turn to play. “I don’t want you to go back through Florida if it’s dangerous,” he said, holding Alex’s hand.

“Well, maybe I’ll just stay here longer, then,” Alex told him, making little circles on John’s hand with his finger. They smiled at each other.

Nobody else picked up the ball, so Peggy helped Katie open her presents, a cuddly plush elephant from Uncle Alex and Uncle John, an adorable hand-knitted hat and mittens set from Uncle Herc, and an educational puzzle from Liam. Peggy and Gil had given her a Minnie Mouse doll earlier in the day. When the gifts had been admired, they lit the single candle on the pink-frosted cake, and they all sang “Happy Birthday,” once in English and once in French.

“It’s so great that your Katie will learn two languages,” Sydney said with complete insincerity.

Peggy thanked her with an equally insincere bright smile.

Katie was mangling her piece of cake all over the tray of the high chair, patting it, licking the icing off her hand, and giggling.

“We had an organic carrot cake for Liam’s first birthday,” Sydney said. Nobody responded except her husband, who smiled approvingly at her. They had allowed Liam to have just a tiny bite of Brad’s cake.

Katie gleefully smashed pink icing onto her face while Gil took a million pictures. Alex and John, arm in arm, sang to Katie one more time, and Herc cut more slices of cake and rearranged the table. Sydney and Brad finished their cake quickly and said their goodbyes with lots of thanks and “See you at the park!”

After the door closed behind them, there was a pause to be sure they were gone, then everyone burst out laughing.

“My God, Alex, you are awful!” Peggy said.

“You think I got them worried about Florida?” he asked with a grin.

“Of course you did, but why?”

“Tell you in a minute, we all have to talk.”

He waited till they had cleaned up and Gil got Katie to bed, then they all gathered around the small dining table that really only had room for four.

“I could sit on Alex’s lap,” John volunteered in the gayest voice ever, fluttering his eyelashes.

“I’m getting you a chair,” Gil told him.

“Sorry, babe,” John told Alex, pecking him on the cheek.

“Show’s over,” Herc reminded them.

“Who says it’s a show?” Alex asked, doing his own eyelash thing.

“Do you actually want to talk to us, or do you and John want to make out for a while? I mean, we can wait,” Gil told him.

“Tough choice,” Alex said, with one more look at John, “but I really do have to talk to you about serious shit, so here it goes. You all know TJ is running a squad somewhere not too far from here – within a day’s drive. He’s about to be moved. There are some opportunities in the South, and General Akhdir needs somebody with experience who can get things organized quickly. TJ’s his first choice, but then he needs somebody to take over TJ’s position here, and that’s going to be me.”

“You’re leaving New York?” Gil asked, surprised.  

“I have to,” Alex told her. “I’m not going to school anymore. I need to do something that’s going to matter.”

“What about Eliza and Angelica?” Peggy asked.

“They’ll be staying where they are, so I’ll be with them. I’m telling you now, it’s a cabin in the Poconos, about two hours north of Philly. If you need to get up there, I can give you specifics, but for now we’ll just leave it at that. TJ is going south, but not, as you’ve probably guessed, to Florida. The General doesn’t have enough guys to cover the South, and Florida isn’t nearly as strategic as where TJ’s going, so we’re trying to misdirect as much as possible – start rumors about Florida, make false reports about problems there, that kind of thing. We’re hoping that King will send reinforcements to Florida and maybe leave some holes in the defenses farther north. Tonight was an opportunity to throw out some more bait.”

“Why all the drama with you and John?” Gil asked. “I mean, I know you guys have your thing, but tonight was way over the top.”

“I know, but wasn’t it fun?” Alex asked. “I just wanted them to see me as the depraved lowlife they would expect to be associated with the Movement. That’s also why we exaggerated the foreign connection.”

“These gay immigrants are going to destroy society,” John declared, and everybody laughed.

“So when are you leaving?” Gil asked.

“A week or so. TJ will let me know.”

“Is it going to be dangerous?” Peggy wanted to know.

Alex shrugged. “Everything that the Movement does is dangerous to some extent. I’m using three illegal phones, you’re in hiding under a false name, John forges ID’s, Gil is concealing a wanted person, and Herc is running errands for all of us. We’re all breaking the law. We’re all subject to arrest. But the alternative is to kiss King’s ass, and that I’m not going to do.”

Gil put out his hand. “We’re with you,” and when Alex grabbed it, added, _“de tout coeur.”_

Peggy hugged him, then went to pack up some cake for the guys to take home. John followed her into the kitchen, and she turned to him. “You going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Alex has to do what he believes in. Nobody’s ever going to stop him.”

Peggy put her arms around him. “Come here whenever you want if you get lonely,” she said. John nodded and kissed her cheek.

Herc picked up his cake from the counter and said, “You know, I bet you never see that Sydney at the park again. Her husband’s probably giving her a lecture all the way home about associating with you.”

Peggy laughed. “You’re probably right. She’s pretty boring, though, so I don’t care.”

Alex put on his jacket and gave her a hug. “I’m glad you’ll be with Angelica and Eliza,” she told him. “Take care of them.”

“I will,” he said, kissing her cheek. “No goodbyes now, though. You’ll see me before I go.”

Three days later, Alex was banging on their door at ten o’clock at night. Peggy knew the instant she saw his face that it was bad news. Alex reached out his hands and she grabbed them. Gil stood behind her, holding her shoulders.

“Peggy, I’m so, so sorry,” Alex said, tears in his eyes. “I just got a call from TJ. He got a report that both of your parents were killed trying to escape.”

Gil caught her as she fell.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost caught up to the present, so fewer flashbacks as we go along.  
> Thanks for the kudos and comments so far, but I'd love more feedback (I'm needy). Who do you want to hear more about?


	12. A Reason I’m Still Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy deals with her parents' deaths. The squad celebrates Katie's birthday and Thanksgiving. A mission is planned.

Gil and Alex had sat up with her all night on that awful November twelfth, and in the morning John and Herc had come over. Alex made her drink enough water, and John cooked scrambled eggs and soup, things that were easy to swallow. Herc brought her blankets because she felt so cold, even as she sat wrapped in Gil’s arms, sobbing, “I want my sisters,” over and over. Alex texted TJ on as many different phones as he could to keep messages secure, but there was no safe way that Angelica and Eliza could come back to New York. They finally got a five-minute conversation, but they all just cried so much they could hardly speak, so it didn’t help.

For a week, they were all there, John and Herc occasionally going to a class, but Gil and Alex never leaving her. Alex sang _“Ainsi Font”_ over and over to Katie for hours and never complained. They ate John’s soup – he had made five different kinds and put labeled containers in the freezer – at random times. At night Gil held her and when she needed even more closeness, made love to her with infinite tenderness and patience.

At the end of that week, Alex had to leave. TJ had delayed his departure to give him a few more days, but he had to go to the cabin and start establishing his authority there. Saying goodbye to him was almost as hard as saying goodbye to her sisters had been, and without Alex to take charge, the future seemed even more uncertain.

Thanksgiving was a week after Alex left, and Peggy had told Gil that she just wanted to skip it, but Herc announced that his mom really wanted all of them to come for Thanksgiving dinner.

“It’s okay,” he told Peggy. “My mom knows what happened. She thinks you should be with friends, and she’s right. No expectations. Just come and have dinner with us.”

Peggy agreed to go, even though she feared that just hearing someone called “Mom” would be too much for her. But the Mulligan household, seven people crammed into a small two-bedroom apartment, had enough positive energy to light up the George Washington Bridge. Herc introduced her to his family as Adrienne, so she didn’t know what he had told his mother, but in the end it didn’t matter.

Mrs. Mulligan was from Jamaica, and spoke with an accent that Peggy found hard to follow at first, but Mrs. Mulligan – “Call me Veronica,” she said – laughed and promised to speak more slowly. She loved mythology, so Herc’s younger siblings, who ranged from age eighteen to eight, were Venus, Apollo, the twins Diana and Damon, and little Pandora, who was immediately fascinated by Katie and took charge of her.

“That baby speaks French, you know,” Herc told his little sister.

“Uh-huh,” Pandora responded skeptically, sounding very much like her big brother.

“Are you teaching her both languages?” Mrs. Mulligan asked, and Peggy found herself drawn into conversation. Talking about Katie was easy and safe, and she began to relax a little.

John was there too, because Mrs. Mulligan always invited all of her kids’ friends for holidays. As far as Peggy knew, John never went home for visits. His family provided him with lots of money, but they didn’t seem to be in touch. Gil, like Alex, had been orphaned young. Only Herc lived with a loving family as she and her sisters had.

Being with the Mulligans made Peggy begin to feel less desolate. They all talked at once, tumbled over one another, fought for space on the couch and over which DVD to watch. Like most people, they had lost their media license after the insurrection, but they had a DVD player and a stack of DVD’s, mostly Disney. Venus and Diana won that fight, and _Beauty and the Beast_ played throughout dinner.

Veronica Mulligan had made a roast turkey, of course, but it had been seasoned with jerk spice and there was a big dish of rice and peas instead of mashed potatoes. John had made pumpkin and pecan pies, and Gil had found a few minutes to buy a couple of bottles of wine. There wasn’t room for everyone at the table, so Pandora and the twins ate from plates on their laps, perfectly content to do so. Veronica kept the conversation going, talking mostly about the kids and school. Venus would graduate high school in June and was planning on studying math and eventually getting her CPA. Apollo was in his school’s drama program and currently rehearsing for their production of _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_ , in which he would play Oberon. Both of the twins were taking French at school and kept asking Gil how to say things until their mother told them to stop bugging him, but Gil laughed and promised to teach them to sing _“Ainsi Font.”_ Peggy was included in the conversation, but Veronica kept an eye on her and made sure to give her space. There were moments when she was close to tears, but there were also moments when she laughed, almost surprised at herself, because she had begun to wonder if that would ever be possible again.

After dinner, Herc proposed that the guys go down the block to shoot hoops and work off some of the pie, and Veronica shooed Diana and Pandora off with them, so that she and Venus could stay in the apartment with Peggy and Katie. Venus sat on the floor playing peek-a-boo with Katie, and Veronica motioned for Peggy to sit on the couch with her.

“Hercules told me you’ve had some heartache, honey,” she said gently, and that was enough to send Peggy over the edge. She cried, and Veronica hugged her and patted her on the back, and then she held her hands and said, “Listen to me. No matter what the details are, your parents always knew that you were likely to outlive them. They knew that they would be gone before you. We all know that. They wouldn’t have wanted it to be any different. In that last moment, they knew you and your sisters survived, and that was what would have mattered to them.”

“They knew I got Katie out,” Peggy gulped.

Veronica nodded. “They knew you kept her safe. Listen to me as a mother when I tell you that that’s what mattered to them, that their girls were safe. You miss them, and you’ll always miss them, but you’ll live and you’ll have children, and you’ll see your parents in them, I promise you.”

Peggy nodded a little uncertainly.

“I can’t carry a tune,” Veronica told her, “but my Diana sings like a lark, just like my Mama did. And my Venus with all her fancy math, that comes from my Daddy. You’ll see. Even now, you watch that little Katie, and you’ll see your parents in her.”

“She has Mom’s eyes,” Peggy said. “We all do.”

“Then your mom had beautiful eyes,” Veronica told her. She hugged Peggy again. “Any time you need to talk, I’m here.”

It’s been two years since then, Peggy thought, watching Gil help Katie stack blocks on the floor of the cabin. There had been many hard days, but Veronica Mulligan’s words had stayed with her. “They knew you kept her safe.” It comforted her, and it made her feel proud that in the last minutes that her parents had seen her, she was doing exactly what they would have wanted.

After that Thanksgiving, Peggy had vowed that no matter what else happened, they would find a way to celebrate the holiday every year. Last year had been really difficult, with very little food on the table and Alex stressed out and irritable, but they had done their best. This year was better. Gil had actually shot a pheasant out in the woods one day, and John had looked up how to cook it in one of the old cookbooks that had been in the cabin. Ben Rush, Jack Sullivan, and Molly Hays were coming up from Crazy Tony’s squad. Molly was a little older than Angelica, and her husband had been killed in the insurrection, but it looked like she and Jack Sullivan might be getting together, and that would be a good thing for both of them. She was relatively new to the squad, having arrived about six months earlier. She also couldn’t stand Charlie Lee, which was a point in her favor.

They had decided to celebrate Katie’s birthday along with Thanksgiving to make things easier, and it was as festive an occasion as they had had in the last two years. One pheasant didn’t go very far in feeding eleven people, but they each got a mouthful, and there was plenty of rice and beans. Instead of pumpkin pie or birthday cake, they had canned peaches, but Alex lit three candles and let Katie blow them out, and Jack Sullivan produced a dozen long-hoarded Hershey kisses, enough so that they each got one, and Katie got the extra one because it was her birthday party.

They all sat around after dinner. Ben had been talking to Gil about the medical work. Back in New York, Gil had done a summer internship at St. Luke's and had volunteered at a church first aid clinic. Ben wanted him to get more practice in while they had free time, and they were trying to work out a schedule. Molly, sitting with the Schuyler sisters, admitted with a little embarrassment that yes, she and Jack were now a couple, and everybody was happy for them. “You take love wherever you find it,” Peggy reminded herself, looking at them all. If they had met before the coup and the insurrection, she and Gil might have walked away from each other, convinced themselves that their crazy lightning-strike love couldn’t be real. As much as she wished for a safe and peaceful world, when she thought that she and Gil might not be together in that type of world, she didn’t want it. If it took fighting a revolution for them to meet, then it was worth it.

“Seriously, Gil,” Ben was saying, “a couple of times a week. We need to coordinate things.”

“All right,” Gil said, “and Eliza's helping too, right?"

“I am, but more nursing stuff,” Eliza responded. “You know, tracking med doses, changing bandages, that sort of thing.”

“Speaking of meds,” Ben went on, “we need some. Alex, can we work on that?”

Alex nodded. “Yeah, Tony and I were talking about it the other day. We can’t be without antibiotics and supplies.”

“So, where and when? I’ve got enough antibiotics for two cases of pneumonia or one dirty gunshot. Anything more than that and we’ll start losing people.”

“Okay, we’ll get on it this week,” Alex agreed. “There are a few clinics we’ve had our eye on.”

“Without alarm systems?” Angelica asked skeptically.

“Of course not,” Alex told her, “but we’ll be sending in a technician from the alarm company to do a routine inspection and make sure everything, including the security cameras, is operating correctly. Once that’s done, we’ll need to get in and out quickly before any alteration is discovered.”

“So who’s going to be the technician?” Ben asked.

“Probably me,” Alex replied, “unless you know someone else who can disable the alarm and the security cameras and reset all the pass codes in one visit.”

“How about Charlie Lee?” Jack queried, and Alex punched him.

Herc said, “I’ll need the security company specifics to get the correct names on the uniform patches. Plain blue overalls, right?”

Alex nodded. “That always works. John, can you paint the truck by Monday?”

“Sure, if you get me the logo,” John said. One of the vehicles that they used only for missions was a white panel van. John could paint any logo they needed on clear plastic film, slap it on, then remove it after the mission.

“So, we’ll shoot for Monday or Tuesday?” Alex asked, looking around. “Once we get prep done, I want Gil and Eliza on this because they’ll know what to grab. Ben, let Gil know what meds you need; Eliza will handle supplies. I’ll need at least one more person. Talk to Tony about it, but I’m not taking Charlie Lee.”

“Fair enough,” Ben agreed. “I think Tony wants to hand him off anyway, but TJ doesn’t want him.”

“How about Frank or Ethan?” Alex asked.

“Not Frank,” Jack put in. “TJ’s working with him.”

“Hm, didn’t know that,” Alex said thoughtfully. “Well, let’s pack him off to Ethan, then, that should be far enough away.”

“Where’s Ethan?” Peggy asked.

“Way up north, other side of Boston.”

“Does Ethan even need another guy?” Molly wanted to know.

“Everybody needs more guys,” Alex told her, “but I like Ethan, and I’d hate to stick him with Charlie Lee. Anyway, it’s something Tony would have to take up the chain of command, so nothing we can do about it now.”

“Tony said you guys were working on somebody who might be a source in the Customs service,” Jack said.

“Yeah, we’re going to try to get a meeting set up,” Alex told him. “Maybe not this week if we’re going to do the clinic, but soon for sure.” He looked pleased with himself. “Wheels are turning.”

This was one of the times when those who didn’t go on the mission had a general idea of what it was simply because everyone knew that Ben was low on meds. They could get some meds at pharmacies with forged prescriptions, but they didn’t have enough ID’s to do that often. Even so, only free-standing clinics and hospitals would have things like Novocain and surgical drugs. Early on, General Akhdir had recognized that prescription drug sales could make huge amounts of money for the Movement. He had immediately forbidden any such prospect. “We take what we need to treat our soldiers,” he had said. “We do not profit from anyone’s suffering.” That meant they were very specific in what they took: antibiotics, Novocain, IV anesthetics, and some pain meds. They kept as careful track of them as a hospital would. Drug theft was cause for instant dismissal, or worse, dismissal with advisement, which meant that the thief would be dismissed from the Movement and the Greaters would be advised of where and when that person could be found. It was essentially a death sentence. The General was serious.

Over the next few days, Herc made sure the blue overalls fit Alex, and embroidered the alias “Chris” on the name patch. He also embroidered another patch with the security company logo, and sewed it to the sleeve. John painted the logo on his giant piece of plastic, which would stick to the side of the van. Ben reviewed meds with Gil, who would be able to recognize alternatives from their chemical names. Eliza memorized lists of suture sizes and IV tubing.

Peggy just kept telling herself this was an easy one. They almost certainly would not be going to a twenty-four hour clinic, but to one that was closed at night, with a disabled alarm system. They’d be in and out in less than an hour, back in the van, from which the logo would already have been removed. Then they’d have the supplies Ben needed in case the next mission turned out to require guns and explosives.

Alex, Molly, Gil, and Eliza were on this. They’d be gone two days. As far as Peggy could guess, they’d drive to the destination, and Alex would do his technician thing. Then that night, they’d return, break in, steal what they needed, and get out. She also suspected that Molly might act as a clinic patient when they first arrived and scout out the building. That would make sense, but she had no specific information.

They left on Tuesday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to say first of all, that Herc's family in this fic is entirely my creation. The real Hercules Mulligan did have a real family of course (and a brother named Hugh), but I needed a big happy family and a motherly type for Peggy's sake, so here they are. I also have a horrible feeling that despite the Mulligans, this chapter is dull, but I need to get some stuff clarified before I can move on. It's like one of those dinner-table exposition scenes to help you sort out who's doing what. Stay with me, we'll be moving on to more exciting moments soon, promise.  
> As always, thanks for the kudos and comments. Tell me who and what you like and you'll probably get more of it.


	13. Take a Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mission gets accomplished, but not without some problems, and the squad has a lot of interpersonal conflict to deal with. Living in close quarters takes a toll. That being said, the day ends well for Peggy and Gil.

It was dark and it was cold, but Peggy wouldn’t come in. Angelica stood at the door trying to reason with her.

“It’s not going to help anybody if you freeze to death,” she said.

“I have a coat on,” her sister told her. “And mittens. And a scarf. I won’t freeze.”

“Peg, they’ll be back soon.”

“Then I won’t be out here much longer, will I?”

An hour later, John came out and sat down on the step with her. He was wearing a coat and a black watch cap pulled down over his curls. He stuck his hands in his pockets.

“Thought you might want some company,” he said.

“I’m okay.”

“Angelica’s pissed at you.”

“I know. Did she send you out here to sweet talk me?”

“Yeah.”

“It won’t work.”

“Peggy, baby, he’s fine.”

Peggy clenched her teeth. “You don’t know that. You don’t know where they are either. They’re more than a day late.”

“It’s happened before.”

“Not with Gil.”

No. Gil had never been a day late, and John knew that some of the people who had been a day late had never come home.

“It has with Alex,” John said softly.

“Ah, John, I’m sorry.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, and he put his arm around her. “I can’t even think when I don’t know where he is.” She sniffled.

“Don’t cry on my neck,” he told her. “It’s too cold, and I don’t have a scarf.”

That made her laugh a little. “Why not?’

“Because Eliza only had purple yarn left, and I said I’d rather freeze. Only now that that might actually happen, I realize it was a mistake.”

“You want mine?” she asked. “It’s blue. Blue’s good on you.”

“Then you’ll be cold.” He hugged her closer. “Come on, Peggy, you have to come in.”

“John, what if …”

He put his cold hand over her mouth.

“Don’t,” he said. “You can’t let yourself go there every time.”

“How do you stand it when Alex is gone so much?” she asked him.

He shook his head. “One foot in front of the other. One hour at a time. Don’t imagine anything. Keep busy. All those things. But really, there’s no way except to let the time pass. And then he’s home.”

“You don’t worry?”

“Fuck, yeah, every minute, every day, even when he’s here. You know Alex – you think he might put himself in danger sometimes? Talk about somebody who skates on thin ice.” He shook his head again. “But you know, that’s Alex. That’s who he is. I don’t want him to be different.”

“Because you love who he is.”

“Yeah.”

They sat for a few minutes in silence. Then Peggy asked, “Do you think it will be over before Katie grows up?”

“Absolutely.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that? Most of the time I feel like this is all we’ll ever have.”

“No, we’ll win, and it will be over. When we’ve got people like the General and Alex and Crazy Tony and Ethan working on it. We’ll win. Then Gil can finish medical school and you guys can buy a nice house with a big yard for Katie to play in, and you’ll have five or six more kids, and we’ll all come to your place for Thanksgiving.”

Peggy sniffled again. “Five or six more kids, huh?”

“Gil says he wants a big family.”

“It’s because he’s an only child.”

“Uh-huh. Peggy, can we please go in now? I’m freezing my ass off.”

She stood up and held out her hand. He took it and they went in together. Angelica hugged her, and they went to bed. She lay alone in the bed she should have been sharing with Gil, listening to Katie breathe, winding the blankets tighter around herself.

It was nearly dawn when he came in and wrapped his arms around her and kissed the tears off her face.

Angelica let them sleep late the next morning. When she slipped in and got Katie out of bed, they never heard a thing. Peggy woke up to bright sunshine coming in the window, and it took her a moment to remember everything.

Gil was home. He was home and he was safe, and he was right here where he belonged. She ran her hand over his shoulder, down his arm, needed to touch him to prove he was real.

“Mm,” he murmured indistinctly and kissed her. _“Je t’aime, chérie.”_

“I love you too.” She looked around. “Are you awake?”

“Mm-mm,” he responded.

“I think it’s late,” she said, “and somebody took Katie.”

“What?” he asked, opening his eyes.

“I mean, somebody came in and got her up while we were asleep.”

“Oh, okay.” He squinted at the bright sunshine. “I’m awake now.”

“Will you be able to tell me about it?” she asked.

“Some of it,” he said. “I suspect Alex will be holding forth to an audience as soon as possible.”

He was right, of course. As they helped themselves to oatmeal and said good morning to Katie, Alex took a seat on the couch and announced dramatically, “I’m going to tell you guys what happened.”

John sat down next to him with a blanket and tucked it around both of them. Eliza was in the brown chair knitting already, and Angelica sat on the floor in front of Alex, rolling a ball back and forth with Katie. Herc was leaning on the counter drinking a cup of tea. Gil and Peggy sat down to eat their oatmeal.

“Hey, sleepyheads,” Alex said to them with a wink.

“How do you do that?” Gil asked.

“Do what?”

“Go without sleep for three days and then be so damn cheerful.”

“Don’t be grouchy,” Alex told him, smiling. “We did a great job! What’s to be sad about?”

“I want caffeine,” Gil told him.

“We’re out of coffee,” Herc said. “I made a pot of tea.” He poured tea for them.

“If I’d known,” Gil said, “I would have swiped the coffee from the clinic break room.”

“Anyway,” Alex continued, “We’re back, we’re fine, mission accomplished. Except for Gil’s crankiness, all is well. No details, of course, but you may wonder why we were a little late getting back.”

“You think?” John asked.

“Okay, so we got to our destination at around one in the afternoon on Tuesday. I did my alarm company technician thing with no problem. Had the van parked out front with the logo, had my uniform and my fake ID on a lanyard, thanks to my artistic friends here –“ he paused to blow Herc a kiss and to give John a kiss on the cheek – “so that went very well. Then we drove out of town into some woods, took the logo off the van, changed the license plates, changed into our ninja clothes, and waited till later.”

“Ninja clothes? Really? How old are you, twelve?” Angelica asked. She knew he meant dark jeans and hoodies.

“I’m trying to make this narrative interesting,” Alex told her. “So, later on, around two in the morning, we parked behind the clinic and Gil and Eliza went in using the new pass code I had programmed into the security system. Molly and I stayed outside and kept watch. Gil and Eliza were their usual efficient selves, and we were back in the van by around three-thirty. We started to drive out of town to head back here, but there was a little problem.”

“You mean there was a roadblock with about twenty Greater patrol cars,” Eliza put in, the first time she had spoken. She didn’t even look up, just kept knitting.

“Well, yes,” Alex admitted. “We had to turn around.”

Peggy looked at Gil. He was sipping his tea, but his eyes were on Alex.

“And?” Peggy asked, because she really couldn’t stand not knowing, even if that meant encouraging Alex in his obnoxious show-off behavior.

“And our skillful driver, Ms. Molly Hays, got us out of there.”

“Molly did about ninety straight down the main street of the town, never took her foot off the gas,” Gil said flatly. “We got to the south end, and she took off down some godforsaken lane that by the grace of God connected with a state road that led to 447. She drove a while and then turned off into a closed campground, and we waited. We didn’t know if they’d followed us. We didn’t want to lead them back here. Alex thought it was best to wait for a day just in case. We watched the road, and watched the sky for copters, but didn’t see anything. Then we came home.”

“So that’s what happened?” John asked Alex.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Alex agreed, annoyed at Gil’s having finished the story.

There was a long pause, and Peggy didn’t like the way it felt.

Angelica broke the silence. “You know, Alex, not everybody gets off on adrenaline. You can be such a bastard.” And then, in a completely uncharacteristic reaction, she burst into tears.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Alex said, leaning down and hugging her. “Everything’s fine.”

“We had no idea where you were!” Angelica told him, pulling away and jumping to her feet. “Peggy sat out on the fucking step for hours in the dark because she was so scared for Gil, and John paced so much I’m surprised there’s any floor left. And you sit here and want to tell us an exciting adventure story. You have no clue what it’s like to sit and wait for somebody to come home.”

“Sure I do. I understand that it’s hard …”

It was Herc who broke in this time. “No, you really don’t, Alex. You don’t get it,” he said. “You’ve never had to be the one left behind waiting. You’ve gone on every single mission since we got here because you have to be the one in charge.”

“I _am_ the one in charge!” Alex snapped, getting angry. “It’s my squad.”

“Well, so’s Tony the one in charge of his squad, but he doesn’t go on every mission. He’s not afraid to delegate. He trusts his guys to do the job without him,” Herc retorted.

Alex looked around at them all, his face shocked. “You think I don’t _trust_ you?”

Herc sighed and Angelica rolled her eyes.

Alex turned to John, the one he could always count on. John shrugged and looked at the floor.

“Gil?” Alex asked a little shakily, looking across the room.

Gil met his best friend’s eyes and said, “Figure it out, Alexander.”

The silence lasted for a few minutes, then Alex started talking again, a mile a minute, of course, explaining his rationale, supporting his decisions with reasons, facts and details. They let him go on and on, and then finally Eliza said gently, “Alex, please shut up.”

Alex had no idea how to be silent. He started chewing on his lip just to have something to do with his mouth. His big brown eyes were shiny with unshed tears. How could his friends say those things to him? How could they _think_ that?

Gil finally got up and dragged his chair over to sit in front of Alex. “Listen,” he said, “you need a break. You can’t make every decision yourself. Sitting in that van parked in the campground, Molly and I both told you it would be okay to come home. If they hadn’t followed us in four hours, they weren’t going to follow us. We could have been back here Thursday morning. But you don’t listen to other points of view, Alex. If your mind is made up, that’s it. That’s the way we go. It’s not that we don’t trust you; we do. But we don’t trust only you.” He looked around the room and made a sweeping gesture. “We trust each other,” he said.

Alex nodded, so at least he knew what Gil had said. They could see him struggling not to talk. They all knew he would mount a defense that would convince himself that every decision he made had been right. Eliza put down her knitting and sat down next to him. She put her head on his shoulder and John handed her the other end of the blanket so that it covered all three of them.

“Alex,” she said, “take a break. Get some rest.”

Alex nodded again.

“Come on,” Eliza said, taking his hand. “I’ll tuck you in.”

He nodded once more, and followed her to the bunk room, the blanket dragging behind them. He lay down on Eliza’s bottom bunk and she pulled the blanket over him, and finally he closed his eyes.

Eliza closed the door behind him and reached out her hands. “Ange?” she said, her voice thin with exhaustion. “Peggy?”

They both went to her and held her while she cried. The Schuyler sisters, an unbreakable alliance.

“Go lay down in our room,” Peggy told her. “Get some sleep.”

Eliza nodded and obeyed.

Katie had crawled up onto the couch and was patting John gently on the arm. He picked her up and rocked her, comforting himself as well as her.

Gil stood up and reached for Peggy. _“J’ai besoin de mon petit mouton,”_ he said, holding her.

Herc put his arm around Angelica, and she leaned in. “Can we keep doing this?” she asked, talking to no one in particular, but the question wasn’t rhetorical.

Gil looked at her over Peggy’s head. “What else is there?” he asked her. “We keep going or we give up. If we surrender or we’re caught, we die, period. If we keep fighting, there’s a chance that things will get better. I want a life. That’s all any of us want – a life with a home and a family. That’s what we’re fighting for.”

“Hey, Gil,” John said, his face in Katie’s curls. “I think we should talk to Crazy Tony. I think maybe there ought to be some sort of rotation schedule rather than him and Alex picking who goes on each mission. I mean, I understand they might want you for medical stuff, but usually, any of us can do what has to be done. We can all work together. If he goes to Alex with it, maybe Alex won’t feel like he has to be on every mission.”

“It’s a good idea,” Herc said. “We should have a rotation anyway, just because it’s more fair.”

Gil nodded. “One thing, though – I won’t talk to Tony behind Alex’s back. It’s got to be out in the open.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” John agreed. “We don’t want to make Alex any more paranoid than he is.” He hugged Katie. “Uncle John and Uncle Herc are gonna go take a walk, Katie-boo,” he told her. “Somebody will play ball with you.”

Katie patted his cheek. _“Triste?”_ she asked.

John looked at Gil and Peggy. “She wants to know if you’re sad,” Peggy told him, her voice catching.

“Who, me?” John asked Katie with a smile. “Fuck, no! Ah, shit, I mean – oh, Jesus, I’m sorry, Gil!”

But they were laughing, and Gil just shook his head. “I want her to be bilingual, John, but that wasn’t what I had in mind.”

Herc grabbed their jackets and threw John’s at him. “Come on, babe,” he said, “let’s take a walk.”

“Guns,” Angelica reminded them, but they hadn’t forgotten.

They had lentil soup for dinner that night, with tomatoes and rice in it. John probably had about a hundred soup recipes. When one of the guys shot a rabbit, he just added that to whatever soup he was making and called it rabbit soup. They didn’t hunt much, though, because they didn’t want to waste the ammunition or risk the sound of the shot being heard. Tonight’s soup had no meat, but it was good, and they still had plenty of food on hand.

Conversation around the table was subdued because Alex was trying hard not to talk. His efforts were so earnest that it made Peggy feel like crying. Alex thought if they were mad at him, it meant they didn’t love him, and that thought terrified him. _“I live with crazy people,”_ drifted through her mind, but they were her people and she loved them all, and she knew they loved her.

Finally John started goofing around and made Alex laugh, and then hugged him, and the mood lightened. After dinner, though, Gil called a meeting, and the tension rose again. 

The last thing they wanted was for Alex to feel cornered, so Gil and Angelica took turns explaining why they wanted an official rotation for missions. They suggested that either Alex or Tony would go, but not both. They even broached the possibility that someone else could head a mission, but they didn’t push it. Alex listened and asked questions, and agreed that it might be a good idea. They got him to promise that he’d talk to Tony about it in the morning. It was progress.

It had been a completely exhausting day, and Peggy was profoundly grateful to just be able to go to bed with Gil at the end of it.

“Too much stress, today, _chérie,”_ he said as they lay there.

“Mm. Alex is pretty high-maintenance,” she said.

 _“Oui, ça va sans dire,_ but he is, after all, a genius.”

“As he will be happy to remind us.”

Gil laughed. “True, but we couldn’t manage without him.”

“I know.” She snuggled closer and put her head on his chest with a sigh. “I love the way you feel.”

He lifted her hair and kissed the back of her neck. _“Ah, chérie, tu m'énivres.”_ He tilted her head with his finger and began to kiss her.

“I don’t know that word,” Peggy murmured.

“It’s – I don’t know it in English, but it’s good.”

“I thought it was,” she said. “You know, from the context.”

“Sh,” and he kept kissing her mouth, and then her throat, and then a little later, after her tee shirt went on the floor, _“Chérie,_ what pretty panties you are wearing.”

“Thank you. My boyfriend stole them for me.”

“Stole them? He must be a bad guy.”

“No, I don’t think so. I love him.”

“How much do you love him?” Gil asked her, on his knees over her now, and bending down to kiss her breasts while his hand moved languidly inside her panties.

“I love him …” but it was getting harder to talk.

He licked her nipple and then blew gently on it and she gulped a breath.

“How much?” he asked again, his lips traveling down to her navel.

“So, so much,” she said, barely whispering, but her eyes met his as he looked up at her face and smiled.

He began to slide the lacy yellow panties off, a centimeter at a time, his thumb circling, but still slowly.

“Do you love him this much?” he asked, his thumb moving a little faster.

“More,” she told him. “More than you can imagine.”

“This much?” he whispered as his fingers slipped inside her.

“More,” she said, and the panties were thrown to the floor.

He had the condom on and she met him eagerly.

“This much?”

“More,” she said. “More.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't forgotten Aaron Burr, and we'll be hearing more about him soon. I had to deal with Alex's ego, though -- man, that guy can talk. And I have to say, I'm loving John more and more, and I hope Alex will be kind to him.  
> What do you think? What do you like? Tell me.


	14. Aaron Burr, Sir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angelica reminds Alex of an episode with caffeine, sugar, and Sam Seabury. Eliza meets with Burr and decisions are made. Gil persuades Eliza to temporarily give up the comfy chair.

Alex and Gil walked down to Crazy Tony’s cabin the next morning, and they had a confab about the advisability of a scheduled rotation for missions. Tony and his guys agreed that it was a good idea, as long as they kept it flexible. Gil also nudged Alex to concede that he and Tony could trade off control of missions that involved both squads. When they reported back to the rest of the squad, Herc muttered, “Yeah, I just don’t ever want to be left here with Alex when everybody else is off on a mission. He will be losing his mind.”

“You’re right,” Alex admitted, “but maybe that’s something I have to learn to handle.”

Angelica smiled at him. “It’s amazing what a good night’s sleep can do.”

“Yeah, well for now, let’s get back to Burr, and see what we can find out,” Alex said. “Just think how much havoc we could wreak on cargo with a resource in the Customs office.”

The Movement did as much as they could to disrupt shipping and transport of goods from one location to another. Peggy suspected that the bridge they had blown up the day Gil was injured had something to do with that. Being able to sabotage specific cargoes would be a huge step toward damaging and eventually destroying the economy of the King administration. Alex firmly believed, and most people agreed with him, that if the Haves lost their privileged positions and luxurious lifestyles, they could easily be defeated. There were thousands, maybe millions, of patient Hopes and hungry Deplos who would join the Movement once the Haves lost their power. Without the Haves to back him up, George King was nobody.

Molly and Jack were going into town to shop for Tony’s squad, so Alex sent a message to Grammy Nell to set up a meeting with Burr. Eliza spent hours practicing with Alex so that she would be able to ask the right questions. She got another call through to Maddie to ask for more information about Burr. Eliza was wary. She suspected, and Maddie agreed with her, that Burr might be working for the King government. She would have to be very careful not to reveal anything they didn’t want him to know. Alex also prepared some disinformation that she was to feed to Burr as a test. Just as Alex had helped start a rumor about Movement activity in Florida two years before, he would have Eliza toss Burr some bait and see what happened.

Alex insisted (of course) that he accompany Eliza to the city when she went to talk to Burr, and that the whole conversation be recorded. Angelica was going along too, mostly to keep Alex from leaping out of the car and taking charge of the conversation himself. The meeting was going to be held at Sally Burr’s apartment. If anyone asked, Eliza, using her fake ID as Sandra Hawthorn, was an old friend of Maddie’s. As a Hope who had been reduced to Deplo by the Insurrection, she was down on her luck and looking for any kind of work she could get. Maddie had supposedly referred her to her old college friend (and former boyfriend) Aaron Burr, who had a good job and good prospects and might know some people. Eliza was to use her own best judgment about revealing actual information, but she was to “let something slip” about a planned Movement raid on an armored car leaving Philly the next day. Tony’s guys would patrol the route that the non-existent armored car was expected to take. An increased Greater presence would be an indicator that Burr had reported back to somebody. It wasn’t a hundred per cent accurate, of course, but it would give them another piece of data to put into the mix.

Alex drove the Kia and dropped Eliza off a couple of blocks away with the understanding that they would pick her up in the same place in about an hour. Then they went to a cheap diner and spent some of their carefully-hoarded actual cash on bad powdered-egg omelets. The coffee was good, though, and Alex loaded his with all four packets of sugar that they were allowed.

“Drink some water,” Angelica requested.

“What?”

“I want to be sure the coffee and sugar are diluted a little before we leave.”

Alex laughed. “Don’t be silly. I’m fine.”

Angelica rolled her eyes. “Alex, how long have I known you?”

“Um, about five years?” he guessed.

“Right. Tell me, have I ever been with you when you might have been a little over-stimulated by the combination of caffeine and sugar?”

Alex looked at his sugary coffee affectionately, stirred it, and took a sip. He smiled blissfully and pretended not to know what she was talking about. “Hm? Oh, I don’t know.”

“Then let me refresh your memory. Your freshman year, right after the Washingtons were killed in the plane crash. Sam Seabury was acting all sad and going on about the 'tragic accident,' when just a couple of days before, he had said that Washington would go down in history as the worst President ever. You called him out for his hypocrisy and offered to fight him in the library courtyard. Is it coming back to you yet?

“Maybe a little.”

“And then you went to the food court and had – oh, I don’t know – like sixteen cups of coffee and a dozen glazed donuts. Remember now?”

“Yeah, that may have happened,” Alex admitted.

“And then?”

“I beat the shit out of him,” Alex said, smiling.

“Yes, I know, but once he was down on the ground with a broken nose and his pathetic friends were dragging him away, what happened?”

Alex took another sip of coffee and frowned. “I don’t really remember.”

“Exactly!” Angelica said in exasperation. “You don’t remember the point at which you became a problem for your friends.”

“For you?”

“Me and everybody else.”

Alex shook his head. “I don’t see how.”

“How about you wanted to continue beating on Seabury after he was down and clearly out of commission? How about you challenged all his friends, including that obnoxious Shippen girl, to another round? How about both John and Herc had to literally sit on you?”

“Isn’t the Shippen brat’s father somebody in the government now?” Alex asked.

“Yes, and don’t try to change the subject. Drink some water.”

“It will take all the nice coffee taste out of my mouth,” Alex said sadly.

Angelica reached over and took his hand. “I don’t understand how somebody with your brilliance can be emotionally six years old, but you are. Eat your omelet. Finish your syrupy coffee. Drink the whole glass of water.”

Sighing, Alex did as he was told, but sulked for a while. When they parked the car where they had dropped Eliza off, he murmured nostalgically, “Remember when you could get as many sugar packets as you wanted with your coffee?”

Angelica nodded. “I do. It proves that true freedom requires the good judgment of free individuals to act responsibly for the good of society.”

“Is that a quote?” asked Alex.

“Mm-hm.”

“Who said it?”

“You. Sophomore year, during the Insurrection, in your paper on the overreach of King’s government.”

“Damn, I’m good.”

“Yeah, but they were already watching you before you even turned that paper in.”

Alex shrugged. “I couldn’t have done anything differently.”

Angelica kissed his cheek. “I know. None of us could have.”

They saw Eliza turning the corner in front of them, and as soon as she was in the car, Alex pulled away from the curb and headed back to the cabin. Despite his eagerness to hear what she had found out, he had promised to wait until everyone was together so Eliza would only have to go through it once, so instead Angelica talked about his sugar and caffeine consumption all the way home.

Crazy Tony brought Jack Sullivan and Jamie Wood with him. Jamie had known Charlie Lee in high school and managed to get along with him better than anybody else, so Tony used her to run interference.

“Seriously, Alex,” Tony was saying, “we’ve got to find a way to get Lee out of here.”

“He’s yours,” Alex responded, “and anyway, even Lee is better than nothing.”

That got an argument from John and Gil, and then Jamie said, “Oh, he’s not so bad. He’s always been like that.”

“I don’t see how a history of vile behavior excuses its continuation,” Gil said, sounding very French and very disdainful.

“Yeah, he’s a jerk,” Jamie agreed, “but that’s all. He’s not, like, a murderer or anything.”

“Yet,” Jack added darkly.

“Okay, enough,” Alex said. “Tony, the only suggestion I’ve got is to talk to the General; maybe he can find a replacement or knows of a squad that has extra personnel. If not, we’re stuck with Lee. On another subject altogether, we’re going to listen to a conversation between Eliza and Aaron Burr and see what we’ve got.” He turned on the recording.

There were a few minutes of sounds of chairs being pulled out and Eliza introducing herself as Sandra Hawthorn, and then Burr spoke.

_Burr: So, Sandra – can I call you Sandra?_

_Eliza: Sure:_

_Burr: You’re a friend of Maddie James?_

_Eliza: Yeah, not a close friend, but I know her. She lived near some cousins of mine in Virginia, and I got to know her when I visited them. She told me that you were doing really well in Philly and that I should look you up when I got here._

That was the cover they had decided on. Burr laughed.

_Burr: Well, that may be an exaggeration, but I’m doing okay._

_Eliza: I haven’t been here very long, but it’s really been hard to find work._

_Burr: Mm-hm. What kind of work do you do?_

_Eliza: Well, I don’t really have marketable skills. I was in college majoring in music education when I had to drop out. I can play the piano, but there isn’t much demand for that._

_Burr: Could you play in a club?_

Here Alex looked over at Eliza and raised his eyebrows.

_Eliza: Well, maybe, but that’s not really the kind of music I’m familiar with. I did mostly classical._

_Burr: Mm-hm. I’m not sure what Maddie thought I could do for you. You know that I work in the Customs service, right?_

_Eliza: Yes, I guess maybe she thought you could advise me._

_Burr: On …?_

_Eliza: Well, maybe some work I could do to help improve the economy or make more jobs available._

There was a long pause here, and they could hear tapping, as though Burr was playing with a pencil.

_Burr: A lot of people would like to see improvement in our current economic situation._

_Eliza: That’s exactly what I was thinking. Working in Customs, do you see things like unfair tariffs or shipping taxes that make things harder for ordinary people like me?_

Another long pause.

_Burr: Sometimes._

_Eliza: I wish I could do something about it. I’ve heard about people -- well, we all know it’s true, they call it the Movement. People who are trying to bring down King and get the vote back for all of us._

_Burr: We always hear things. It’s hard to verify anything, though._

_Eliza: There’s been sabotage. We know that._

_Burr: Yes, some._

_Eliza: Has there been any in shipping that you’re aware of?_

_Burr: There have been some incidents. We don’t know who’s responsible for all of them._

_Eliza: I’m not saying it’s right or anything, but maybe I can see how someone would do something like that, if they thought it would help change things._

_Burr: I can see that. I don’t always disagree with their views._

Eliza was tiptoeing carefully at this point, and her voice became more hesitant.

_Eliza: Sometimes I think they’ve got the right idea._

_Burr. Mm._

_Eliza: If they held up an armored truck or something, and then used the money for good, I don’t think that’s the same as just stealing money for themselves._

_Burr: Robin Hood._

_Eliza: Right._

_Burr: Armored cars leave Philly every day._

_Eliza: I think a lot of them take Route 1 north._

_Burr: That’s true._

_Eliza: I’ll bet that on any given day, even tomorrow, an armored car will be headed up Route 1 toward Langhorne._

_Burr: Langhorne?_

_Eliza: That’s north of the city, right? I meant in that direction._

_Burr: Ah. Yes, I wouldn’t be surprised if there were an armored car going in that direction tomorrow._

_Eliza: I hope nobody gets hurt in any of these incidents._

_Burr: Well, that’s always a possibility, isn’t it? The sort of thing the Movement does is dangerous._

_Eliza: It could be._

_Burr: And even if it’s not physically dangerous, people’s lives and careers can be totally destroyed._

_Eliza: That’s true._

_Burr: On the other hand, if our society could be made better, then perhaps it’s worth it._

_Eliza: Yes._

_Burr: And that’s the kind of work that you might want to do, Sandra? Work that might bring about real change?_

_Eliza: I’d like to think that was possible._

_Burr: I understand. I respect that._

_Eliza: Respect …?_

_Burr: Respect the ideals._

A long silence.

_Burr: But I’m afraid I don’t know of any opportunities in that area as of now._

_Eliza: Do you think you might in the future? Maybe the near future?_

A pause and some more tapping.

_Burr: I hope so. I certainly hope so._

The tape ended with polite thanks and goodbyes and the sound of a door closing.

Alex grabbed Eliza and kissed her. “Babe, you are amazing!”

“High School Drama Club Award,” Angelica reminded them.

Eliza took a pose and bowed. “Do you think he got the message though?” she asked.

“Definitely,” Peggy said. “All that back-and-forth about sabotage and Robin Hood. Yeah, he knew.”

“So, Tony, you guys are going to check for Greater patrols around Langhorne tomorrow, right?’ Alex confirmed.

Tony nodded. “Yeah, but I bet there won’t be anything,” he said.

“You think he wants in?” Alex asked him.

“Yeah, I do. He sounds like somebody who’s tried to play along with King’s government and has realized that it’s not the way he wants to go.”

“What impression did you get of him, Eliza?” Gil asked. “It’s hard to tell from a recording when we can’t see his face. What’s he like?”

“Well, first of all,” Eliza said with a sidelong glance at Alex, “he’s very good-looking.”

“Oh, that’s helpful!” Alex snapped.

“Just an observation,” Eliza smiled. “Seriously, though, I think Maddie was right about him. He doesn’t reveal much. He doesn’t make eye contact a lot. He looked at the papers on the desk, played with a pen. He wasn’t rude, I don’t mean that, but sort of – detached? Not emotionally invested in the conversation.”

“But you got the impression that he would be interested in working with us?” Alex asked.

Eliza nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, but for his own reasons.” She looked around at them all. “We’re all here because we believe in this Movement totally. We believe that, like Gil said last night, this is the way that we can have the lives we want, with homes and families, and opportunities for the kids we’ll have someday. With Burr, I don’t get that feeling. I think he’d support the Movement, but that he sees it more as a route to career opportunity for himself. Maybe I’m reading too much into his demeanor, but I didn’t see much emotion there.”

Alex looked at Tony. “So what do you think? Do we want to go further with him, even if he doesn’t share what we believe?”

“The question I have,” Tony said, “is not whether he believes exactly the same things as we do, but could he be useful to us?”

“I’m sure he could,” Alex replied.

“Well, then,” Tony declared, “I don’t care if he thinks the earth is flat, I say we take it to the next level and send Alex to meet with him.”

Tony and Alex could make the decision on their own, but they opened it up to discussion just to be sure nobody had any major objections they hadn’t thought of. Everyone was in agreement, but not enthusiastic.

“We keep him at a distance, right?” Jack asked. “I mean, he stays in his Philly office and doesn’t know where we are?”

“That’s the plan,” Alex said.

“Okay, then.”

“We don’t disclose our location or our real names,” Gil said.

“Correct," Tony confirmed.

“All right,” Alex said, “we’ll work on setting something up in the next few weeks, provided Tony doesn’t find Langhorne crawling with Greaters tomorrow. In the meantime, we have another mission coming up. Things are happening, guys!” He grinned. Nothing made Alex happier than the kind of turmoil that gave other people anxiety attacks.

After dinner, Gil declared that Eliza had been hogging the comfortable chair for too long because she sat in it to knit. He demanded a turn in it.

“But my knitting is useful for us all,” Eliza reminded him.

“True, but I want the comfy chair for a while so Peggy can sit on my lap.”

Angelica mimed gagging, and John yelled “Lovebird overload!” from the kitchen.

 _“S’il te plaît, ma chère soeur,”_ Gil coaxed, making eyes at Eliza.

“I’m not your sister,” Eliza told him.

“Yet,” Gil said.

“Okay, fine, but just for tonight,” Eliza said, getting up. “I am in no way relinquishing my prior claim on the comfy chair.”

Gil grabbed Peggy and settled into the chair. Eliza sat next to Alex on the couch.

“I thought it was Alex who was pre-law,” Herc said.

“Poli Sci,” Alex corrected him. “Eliza’s going to be the lawyer.”

“Can you really play the piano?” John asked, coming in from the kitchen and throwing himself on the floor.

“Chopsticks,” she said.

“Oh, too bad Burr didn’t find you a job playing in a club in Philly,” Alex said, obviously still a little annoyed about Eliza’s opinion of Burr’s looks.

“It might have been hard to pull off,” Eliza agreed.

“Eliza, you should never have given them the chair,” Angelica said. “They’re making out over there.”

“We are not!” Peggy said. “Just cuddling a little.”

“Is it true what they say about French men …?” Herc started.

“Ha, look at Peggy blush!” John hooted.

Peggy hid her face in Gil’s neck.

“Man, she didn’t even know what I was going to ask,” Herc said.

“What were you going to ask?” John wanted to know.

“I don’t know,” Herc admitted. “I just wanted to make Peggy blush.”

“Stop!” Peggy begged, her voice muffled.

Gil was laughing out loud. _“Tu es adorable quand tu rougis, chérie.”_

“What’d he say, Alex?” Herc asked.

“She’s cute when she blushes.”

“Oh, God, I can’t stand it!” Angelica declared. “It’s like living with Romeo and Juliet.”

“Well, except for the suicides,” Eliza pointed out.

“Yo, Juliet, show your face,” John demanded.

Peggy peeked out, still red, but laughing. “You guys are just picking on me because I’m the youngest,” she said.

“Where have we heard that before, Eliza?” Angelica asked.

“Pretty much every day of our childhoods,” Eliza replied.

“They’re picking on me too, and I’m the oldest,” Gil pointed out.

“You cradle robber!” Alex said.

“I’m sorry, what?” Gil asked.

“You robbed the cradle.”

 _“Comment?_ I don’t think I know that expression,” Gil said.

“It’s when a much older man – or, I guess, woman – is attracted to a much younger person,” Angelica explained.

“Okay, but what is cradle?”

 _“Berceau,”_ Alex told him, and Gil was horrified.

“But she’s not a baby!” he protested.

“Well, no, but she was still legally a child when you, um, met,” Alex.

“Yeah, and since within about five minutes you had decided that you were madly in love …” Angelica continued.

“An hour!” Peggy told her. “It took me an hour.”

“Me, not even five minutes,” Gil said, giving her that smile and kissing her neck.

“See? There they go again!” Angelica said, throwing her hands up.

Peggy sat up straight. “You know, seriously, guys,” she said.

“Seriously!” John said to Herc, batting his eyelashes.

“I mean it!” Peggy said. “I am completely serious.”

“About what?” Angelica asked.

“About Gil and me.”

“Okay, we kind of know that,” Eliza said.

“We did fall in love very fast,” Peggy admitted.

“World’s record,” John muttered.

“But then we had to make a choice about it,” Peggy went on.

“What do you mean?” Alex asked.

“Well, we had to choose whether to act on it, or to see it as an infatuation and blow it off. It happened at a very difficult time. It might just have been an emotional reaction to everything that was going on. We had to decide what it was.”

“And how did you make that decision?” Alex asked.

Peggy turned and looked up at Gil. “Leap of faith,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck.

He kissed her and then grinned at the rest of them. “You see?” he said. “You see how lucky I am?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to balance the fluff and the angst. Got some pretty serious stuff coming up in the next couple of chapters, so ended this one on a happy note. Thanks for the kudos and comments. I LOVE hearing from you!


	15. Stay Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Herc go on a mission with some of Tony's squad and it doesn't end well. A Scrabble game is interrupted. Things take a dark turn, and more than one person is in danger.

There were several reasons why the Movement was eager to have a connection in the Customs office, but one was that the King government had found a source of income in confiscated property of those it had arrested. Under the law, property of a seditionist was forfeit to the government. Real estate, like the Schuylers’ brick house near Albany, might be gifted to a King subordinate or sold on the open market; jewelry, art, and antiques brought in profits at specialized auctions, often overseas. Customs officials tracked exported goods as well as imports.

General Akhdir’s administration kept records of confiscated property that would be identifiable. If any of it was recovered, it was returned to its rightful owners, assuming they could be found. The Schuyler sisters had made a list of items they knew had been in their house at the time their parents were arrested – their mother’s jewelry, portraits of their grandparents, gold lockets that their father had given each of the girls for their twelfth birthdays. They didn’t really ever expect to see it again, but at least it was on record if a miracle occurred.

Confiscated property was one of the reasons that the Movement carried out armored car attacks fairly frequently. Valuable jewelry or coin collections would be transported from one location to another along with the cash in armored cars. Only once had Alex’s squad come across any confiscated goods, and, as it turned out, the legal owners of the pretty pearl and sapphire necklace had all been killed. It was locked up safely, though, under the protection of General Akhdir, in the hope that someday a relative or heir might be found.

Peggy’s locket had had pictures of her parents in it. She wanted it back, and she wanted Katie to have one just like it when she turned twelve. It wasn’t a valuable locket, a few hundred dollars maybe, just an oval with forget-me-nots engraved on the front. She had pretty much given up the idea that she would ever see it again, but every time there was an armored car mission, she hoped for the best.

Alex had been talking – well, communicating, anyway, through complicated phone systems – with General Akhdir about getting Burr involved in giving them information. The General had cautiously approved further contact, and Alex was planning to meet Burr within the next couple of weeks. In the meantime, there was a mission planned, and for the first time, Alex wouldn’t be going on it. He was pretending that he was fine with that, and that the new rotation schedule was a great idea, but they all knew it was driving him crazy.

Peggy suspected that this was an almost routine armored car mission, even though they had no information. Crazy Tony was in charge, and John and Herc were going, Herc having begged Tony not to leave him behind with Alex, who would be freaking out. Tony was taking Jack Sullivan and Charlie Lee. Since neither Alex nor Gil would be on the team, Charlie might actually be useful.

They left just before dawn on a cold drizzly morning, and by noon, Angelica was working hard to talk Alex down.

“I’m sure everything will be fine,” Alex was saying, obviously trying to convince himself that a mission could function without him.

“Exactly,” Angelica agreed, pouring more tea. They still didn’t have any coffee.

“They took their guns, right?” Alex asked for about the fifteenth time.

“Of course they did.”

“Both of them?”

“Alex, cut it out,” Angelica told him.

“Right, right, you’re right. I’ve been on missions with John and Herc. They’re the best,” Alex declared.

“Yes, they are,” she agreed.

“Tony didn’t by any chance tell you where they were going, did he?” Alex asked, even though that would have been in total violation of the rules.

“You know he didn’t. You never told us where you were going on a mission, did you?”

Alex shook his head. “Do we have any cookies?” he asked.

He might as well have asked for lobster and caviar.

“Uh, no, not for about two years now.”

“I’d really like some cookies.”

Angelica looked at Gil and her sisters for help.

“How about we play Scrabble?” Eliza suggested. They had found several old board games in the cabin and sometimes played them.

“Only if we can use both English and French words,” Gil said.

“Not fair,” Angelica said. “Only you and Alex speak French.”

“We’ll play teams,” Gil said. “One French speaker on each team.”

“Okay!” Alex agreed, brightening up at the prospect of being able to win at something. “I pick first – Angelica!”

“Fine,” Angelica sighed.

“Peggy’s on my team, of course,” Gil smiled.

“Then I pick Eliza!” Alex said.

“Okay, that means Katie’s on our team,” Gil announced.

“Um, Katie’s three,” Angelica reminded him. “She can’t read.”

“That’s not true!” Gil said, picking Katie up and putting her on his lap. “Katie, what can you read?”

“K for Katie!” Katie said proudly.

“There you go,” Gil said.

“Yes,” Peggy said, “Katie can recognize exactly one letter, which might put our team at a disadvantage, but …”

“But it’s us, right?” Gil smiled. “Me and my two girls!”

“You’re hopelessly annoying,” Angelica told him.

Gil just kept smiling and used all seven of his letters to spell _couteau_ , the French word for _knife_ , getting fifty bonus points to start off. Katie applauded happily and Alex vowed revenge.

They took a break to heat up some leftover soup for lunch, and they all congratulated themselves on having distracted Alex before he either drove them crazy or had a breakdown. Katie wanted to hurry back to the game to find a K, and Peggy had just said, “In a minute, Sweetie,” when there was someone banging at the door and Molly Hays’s voice yelling for Gil or Angelica. Angelica, closest to the door, threw it open and there was Molly, panting for breath and on the verge of tears.

“Gil!” she gasped. “Ben needs you! Now!”

Gil took off running without either his coat or his gun, leaving Molly standing there staring at the rest of them. She took a few breaths, then said, her voice shaking, “I’ll stay with Katie, Peggy. You guys should all go. It’s John.”

Peggy, still a fast runner, beat them all there. Herc was pacing in front of Tony’s cabin. Herc, the calm one, the stoic, was yelling, cursing, sobbing. She couldn’t even understand what he was trying to say, except he couldn’t possibly be saying that John was dead. John couldn’t be dead.

Her sisters and Alex were right behind her, and Angelica grabbed Herc and tried to ask him what was going on, but Peggy went straight in the front door.

The first thing that struck her was the smell of blood, the thick, sickening, metallic smell. They had cut John’s clothes off, and they lay in a bloody pile on the floor. John was on the kitchen table, partly covered with a bloody blanket, bleeding from a wound on his left side, keening in pain and choking on his own blood. An IV bag hanging from the ceiling light fixture was connected to a tube in his arm, and there was another tube coming out of his chest.

Peggy stood stock still and pictures spun through her mind faster than she could think: John feeding her soup after her parents were killed, John drawing turtles with Katie to give her and Gil some time alone, John sitting on the step with her in the cold when Gil didn’t come home. John was the most beloved because he was the most lovable. He hadn’t a shred of malice in his being. Not John. Please not John.

She realized in a minute that everybody was talking, that things were happening.

“Eliza!” Ben yelled. “I need betadine solution,” and Eliza ran to the storage cupboard.

Alex had turned to Tony, and Tony was punching the wall, cursing with each blow “Goddam mother fucking son of a bitch bastard!”

Jamie Wood was sitting on a chair crying, and Jack Sullivan was nowhere to be seen.

Alex went to John and started talking to him, “My sweet boy,” he murmured, tears running down his face as he stroked John’s hair, “my beautiful boy, stay alive. Stay alive, John.”

Angelica came in with Herc, who was silent but shaking, and Ben yelled, “Angelica! Get Alex out of here!”

Angelica looked around wildly for a moment, taking in the blood, and John, and then went and put her arms around Alex and tried to lead him away.

“I can’t, Ange,” he said. “I can’t leave him.”

Angelica called Tony over and asked him, “Is there anything you need me or Alex to do?’

Tony blinked as if he was suddenly awake and said, “Yeah, Alex, I need you. We have to ditch a car before anybody sees it.”

That made no sense, but it was a task, something for Alex to focus on. He bent and kissed John’s bloody mouth, and then went docilely with Tony, not even aware of John’s blood on his face.

Through all this, Gil and Ben were talking to one another rapidly, but calmly.

“D-5 W. Pneumothorax,” Peggy heard Ben say. “Chest tube’s in.”

Gil nodded. Ben had done the right thing.

“Bullet’s still in there, Gil,” Ben said. “Hit a rib. Probably bone fragments tore the lung. We’ve got to get it out.”

Gil’s jaw tightened. “What anesthesia are we using?” he asked.

“Fentanyl,” Ben told him. “IV’s ready, but I think he’ll need to be bagged.”

“Can you do that?” Gil asked.

“I can get the tube in, but I can’t bag him if I’m helping you.”

Peggy suddenly understood that Gil and Ben were going to operate on John right there, on the kitchen table, and all the time that she was trying to understand what everybody was saying, John was sobbing with pain because he had a bullet in him.

“Herc, get Jack,” Gil ordered. “Angelica, I’ll need you over here with sponges and sutures. Ben, how much sterile saline do we have?”

“Gallon, maybe?”

Gil nodded again, taking it all in, running everything through his mind, knowing they had to get this right, knowing also that the odds were astronomically against a pre-med student and an EMT being able to successfully perform trauma surgery.

Herc apparently knew where Jack was because he went outside and came back with him.

Ben looked around the room at who was there, made a quick assessment, and started giving orders.

“First, Jamie, get out of here. Go outside, go sit in the bedroom. I don’t care. I don’t want to see you.” Jamie fled to the bedroom.

“Jack, Herc, I’m going to put an endotrach tube in John’s throat. I’ll attach a mask, and I’ll need both of you to ventilate him. Herc, you’ll hold the mask in place and count the respirations. We want about twelve, fourteen per minute. John’s breathing on his own right now, but he’s only got one functioning lung, and the anesthesia will depress his respiration a little, so you’ll have to help him out. Jack, you’ll compress the vent bag, let it reinflate, over and over, just like breathing. Watch the timing -- nice and slow. You got that?’

They both nodded, anxious but ready.

“Angelica, you’ll have to be scrub nurse, have everything on hand. Peggy, you’ll back up Angelica. If she needs anything, you’ll get it.”

Peggy nodded too.

“Eliza, you’re the only one who can do vitals. We’ve got to watch his blood pressure. He’s lost a lot of blood, and we’re not done yet. Update us every few minutes.”

Then in a completely different voice, he spoke to John. “I’m finally going to let you go to sleep, John. I’ll start the anesthesia, and when you wake up, Gil and I will have you all patched up, and you’ll have all three Schuyler sisters waiting on you hand and foot.” John’s mouth moved a little, almost as if he were trying to smile, and then they began.

Ben was magnificent. He started the anesthesia, got John sedated, put the endotrach tube in and made sure Jack and Herc were operating the vent bag correctly. He swabbed John’s side with betadine solution and then stepped back while Gil took the scalpel and carefully enlarged the hole the bullet had made. Ben held the emergency light so that Gil could see what he was doing, and all the time, John kept bleeding, and Angelica wiped away the blood with gauze and threw it on the floor.

“It’s right here,” Gil said suddenly with relief, and pulled out a deformed piece of metal held in the long clamps. “Fucking Greaters,” he added, and dropped the bullet on the floor.

“BP’s ninety over sixty,” Eliza reported.

“Get the light closer, Ben,” Gil said. “I’ve got some bone fragments here.” He probed and brought out bits of broken bone, and flushed the wound with saline. “I’m going to have to cauterize,” he told Ben, and Ben told Angelica to get something, and Peggy took over and wiped John’s blood.

Angelica came back with what looked like a large pen, and Gil told her to retract, so she held the incision open, and Gil inserted the pen-like thing, and then Peggy smelled burning, and realized what Gil was doing, and it was almost too much for her. She gritted her teeth, though, and kept at it, wiping blood, and then there was less blood, as Gil cauterized the blood vessels, and then finally the bleeding had stopped. Angelica handed Gil the sutures, and he sewed John’s flesh together carefully and neatly.

“His BP’s eighty-five over fifty-six,” Eliza said, her voice concerned.

“Shit,” said Ben.

Ben decreased the anesthesia, and checked John’s breathing. He looked at Gil and grinned. “Bilateral respiration!” he said. Both lungs were working. He took out the endotrach tube, and John looked like himself, just asleep.

“Ben, his BP’s not recovering,” Eliza said, worried.

“He needs blood,” Gil said.

“Well, we don’t happen to have any on hand,” Ben reminded him. “He’s getting fluid.”

Gil shook his head. “It won’t be enough. We can do a direct transfusion. What’s his type?”

“Are you fucking nuts?” Ben asked.

Gil shook his head. “I’ve seen it done. Summer interning. What’s his type?”

Ben shook his head. “B neg.”

“Fuck. Anybody?”

Ben hesitated. “I crossmatched all of us last year. There’s one O neg.”

Gil said. “Who?”

“It’s Peggy,” Ben said at the exact same time that Peggy said, “Me.”

Gil’s face went still. Peggy turned to Ben. “How do you do a direct transfusion?” she asked.

Ben glanced at Gil, but answered her. “It has to be artery-to-vein to maintain the correct pressure, so I have to puncture your artery, insert a tube, as if you were giving a blood donation, then insert the other end in John’s vein.”

Peggy nodded. “Sounds pretty straightforward.”

“It’s not without risk,” Ben told her. “There’s no way to measure the blood volume, so we have to time the transfusion. That’s very inexact. You could lose too much blood yourself. And puncturing an artery is always risky.”

“But if we don’t do it?”

“What’s John’s BP, Eliza?” Ben asked.

“Eighty over fifty,” Eliza said, her voice catching.

“Then John’s probably going into shock. He’ll probably die.”

Peggy reached for Gil and he grabbed her hand. _“Chérie …”_

She looked down at their clasped hands, both of them covered with John’s blood. “We can’t let him die,” she said. “I just saw you fighting to keep him alive. You did things I had no idea you could do. I can do this.”

“I need you,” he told her.

“I know. I need you too. But you know I have to do this.” She turned to Ben. “Okay,” she said.

Ben gave her a quick nod. “You’ll have to be on the same level as him to keep the flow going quickly enough so it won’t clot,” he said.

She understood what he meant and looked at Gil. He picked her up and lifted her onto the bloody table, and she lay down close to John, who still looked as if he were peacefully asleep.

Ben brought the needles and the tubes and he looked Gil in the eye. “Twenty minutes,” he said, “no more. It should be enough.”

Peggy was holding Gil’s hand on her right, and she reached down for John’s cold hand on her left. “You’re going to have Schuyler blood in you,” she told him. “You’re going to be the Schuyler brother.”

And then Ben attached the tubing and she lay quietly while her blood flowed into John.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're not out of the woods yet, and there is more serious stuff to come. Anybody wondering where Charlie Lee is or why Tony and Alex have to dispose of a car? Or what Jamie is crying about? None of those questions have happy answers.  
> Life is a tapestry woven of happiness and unhappiness, joy and tragedy. Love always wins, but sometimes the journey is long and hard. Stay with us. It will be worth it in the end.


	16. We Tend to Our Wounded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John regains consciousness. Alex and Tony dump a car into a ravine. Jamie is still crying, and there's still blood all over the kitchen.

Peggy sat in a kitchen chair in Tony’s cabin, drinking tea and eating whatever Molly shoved at her – peanut butter on a spoon, dried apricots, some cold cooked rice. Ben had said, “Feed her!” and Molly was complying. Molly was back because Eliza and Herc, as the only ones not covered with blood, had gone back to their cabin to get clean clothes. Herc had opted to stay with Katie, and Eliza and Molly had returned to do what they could for John and to help everybody get cleaned up.

Gil was showering now, and Ben had insisted that Peggy get some food into her. He could only estimate how much blood she’d lost, and he was worrying about her. She felt okay, though, a little woozy at first, but not bad. She had strict instructions not to use her left arm for a few days until they were sure the artery had healed properly, to get extra rest and to eat a lot – as much as that was possible, anyway. Gil was probably going to stay within six inches of her for the next week, she thought.

Tony and Alex had come back while the transfusion was still going on, and Jack had asked, “Did you dump it?”

Tony had nodded. “The ravine about three miles north of here – you know where I mean, right? Took the plates off, shoved it over the edge, then hammered the hell out of the plates and tossed them into the lake.”

Peggy didn’t know what they were talking about but the thought crossed her mind that hammering license plates would have been good therapy for Alex. Right now he was sitting next to John, holding his hand and talking to him, softly, but non-stop. John was still on the table, covered with blankets to keep him warm, because Gil and Ben didn’t want to move him until he was awake. His eyelids had fluttered a few times and he had whimpered once or twice, but he wasn’t conscious. Ben was happy to report, though, that his blood pressure had stabilized and had even risen a few points. He had IV antibiotics pouring into him now to reduce any infection that would almost certainly occur after surgery in a non-sterile environment such as a kitchen table. Ben shook his head. It was a miracle that John was still alive.

Gil came out of the bathroom and signaled to Ben. “Your turn,” he said. Ben handed him the blood pressure cuff and went to get cleaned up.

“Can I please have a shower next?” Peggy asked. “And stop, Molly, I can’t eat any more.”

“Okay,” Molly conceded, “but please keep drinking tea or Ben will kill me.”

“Ben will be none too happy with me if I walk in on him in the bathroom to pee,” Peggy pointed out.

“Drink the tea, _chérie,_ ” Gil told her. “I’ll deal with Ben if I have to.”

Peggy smiled at him. Were they really making jokes when just a short time ago, John had been dying?

“John’s going to be okay, right?” she asked Gil.

He took a breath. “Probably yes,” he said. “As long as there’s no infection, which there probably won’t be because we’ve got plenty of antibiotics, thank God. And as long as I didn’t miss cauterizing an intercostal blood vessel. As long as he doesn’t blow another hole in his lung coughing or sneezing. It’s not over yet.” He walked across the room and took John’s blood pressure. Everyone looked at him expectantly. When he smiled, he could hear them exhale. “Ninety-six over sixty-five,” he announced.

“That’s good, right?” Alex asked.

“It’s better,” Gil said. “It’s not likely that he’s bleeding internally if his blood pressure is going up.”

Peggy shuddered. She never wanted to see that much blood again in her life.

“Why isn’t he awake yet?” Alex asked fretfully.

“Anesthesia,” Gil told him. “It was hard to monitor. He probably got more than he needed.” He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. He had just operated on one of his best friends, using only textbook knowledge with no practical training or experience. He and Ben had guessed at so many things – how much anesthesia, where to cauterize, and then, in the end, how to safely do a direct transfusion. Peggy could have died, and it would have been his fault. He opened his eyes and looked at her. She was pale and tired, and covered in blood, even her hair matted with it where she had lain on the table next to John.

Ben was done in the bathroom, and it was Peggy’s turn. “Don’t let her go by herself,” Ben said. “She might get dizzy and faint.”

There was no point in arguing. “I’ll go with her,” Eliza said, and Peggy nodded.

“I need my sister,” she said, smiling at Gil.

“Eliza, let me get my shampoo,” Molly said. “You’re going to need it.”

When Molly went into the small bedroom she shared with Jamie, they heard voices, but couldn’t understand what was being said. Peggy was aware that something else important had been going on, but hadn’t had either the time or the interest to take it in. Molly emerged with a bottle of coconut scented shampoo and handed it to Eliza.

Peggy had thought it was silly that Ben sent someone with her, but in the end, she was glad. She wasn’t exactly dizzy, but she did feel weak, and Eliza got in the shower with her and lathered and rinsed her hair. Peggy remembered her doing the same thing years ago when she had had a bad bout of stomach flu, and had thrown up in bed. Eliza had taken her into the bathroom in the middle of the night and helped her get clean while Angelica had changed her bed. Gratitude for them both overflowed.

“I love my sisters so much,” she said now, tears running down her face with the warm water.

“Your sisters love you,” Eliza said, soaping her back. “Now shush, or I’ll be crying too.”

“Do you think my clothes are a total loss?” Peggy asked.

“Nope, when I left Herc, he was filling the washtubs with cold water and promising that everything would be good as new when he got through with it. He said he’d deal with it.”

When they got back to the others, they immediately realized that something had changed. John, eyes open, was answering questions from Ben. Alex was sitting on the couch next to Angelica grinning. He looked up and said, “John’s awake! He’s awake, and he’s making sense.”

Ben and Gil were discussing how to move John and get him comfortable.

“If we help you,” Ben said, “do you think you can sit up?”

“Yeah,” John said. “I’m just sore. It’s not that bad.”

Ben slid his arm under John’s back and started to move him.

“Fuck,” John muttered.

“Does it hurt?” Ben asked.

“Fuck, yeah, it hurts. I didn’t tell you to stop, though.”

Ben half laughed and half choked, and got John into a sitting position. John looked down at the table.

“Jesus,” he gasped, “is that all my blood?

“Every bit of it,” Ben told him.

“How come I’m not dead?”

“Because Peggy gave you some more blood.”

John turned to her. “Peggy? What the hell?’

By now they were pretty much all crying, and Ben explained the transfusion.

“C’mere, Peggy,” John demanded, motioning with his arm that was still attached to the IV. She went to him and he put his arm around her, wincing, and kissed her. He leaned his forehead against hers. “Ben says you saved my life, babygirl,” he whispered.

Peggy kissed his cheek. “When it started, I told you you’d have Schuyler blood,” she said so that only he could hear it. “I told you that you’d be the Schuyler brother.”

John pulled back, looked into her eyes and nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Fuck, yeah, I’ve got four new sisters.” He turned toward Eliza. “Hey, Eliza! You’re the lawyer, right? I’m legally changing my name to John Laurens-Schuyler. Get started on the paperwork.”

Gil and Jack opened up the couch to a bed, and they got John onto it, realizing about halfway there when the blanket slipped that they’d had to throw away all of his clothes. John was obviously in pain, but laughed at that, and then yelled, “Fuck!” again when it hurt to laugh. They finally got him moved and fairly comfortably propped up with pillows, his IV bag hanging from a picture hook behind the couch. He stared at the carnage across the room, the blood-covered table, the blood-soaked floor beneath it.

“Jesus,” he said again. “Hey, Ben, Gil – I don’t know how you did it.” He stopped and rubbed his hand across his eyes. “Thank you,” he said finally, his voice breaking. “Thank you.”

Ben insisted then that John needed to rest and began giving orders. His plan was that Gil would stay with John for the next few hours while Ben himself got some sleep, then Gil could go home while Ben and Molly monitored John during the night.

“In purely practical matters,” he added, “I need somebody to get John cleaned up and a couple of volunteers to try to salvage the kitchen table and the floor.”

“I’ll get John washed,” Angelica volunteered, “and maybe Alex and Jack can start scrubbing the kitchen? Or Jamie? What the hell’s the matter with her, anyway?”

“There’s stuff …,” Tony said vaguely. “I don’t want her out here now. Listen, you guys,” and he gestured at Alex’s squad, “you don’t know what happened, and I’m not going to go into it now. It’s a really long, really ugly story. I think Eliza and Peggy should go home now, and Angelica as soon as she’s done cleaning John up. I’ll send Alex back with Gil after Ben’s had some sleep. I’ll come up in the morning and fill you in.”

“When can John come home?” Alex asked.

“Maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after, if his vital signs look good,” Ben replied. “He’s going to have something to eat now, and then he’ll get pain meds, so he’ll be sleepy. That’s good, though, because he needs rest.”

“Okay, then,” Tony said, “everybody’s good? Get going and let Ben get some sleep, and let Gil take care of John.”

Peggy and Eliza walked the path back to their cabin, surprised to find that it was dark outside. Herc was waiting for them with rice and beans, and he and Katie had obviously spent the day playing with fabric and yarn scraps, because there were tiny textile creations scattered around the house. None was more than a couple of inches big, because they used every bit of cloth just as they used every bit of food, but Katie had a tiny doll made out of the cuff of a worn-out sock. It had an embroidered face, and shreds of yarn for hair, and Katie was completely enchanted with it. She had named it Little Baby, with accuracy if not creativity, and she confided to Peggy that she and Uncle Herc had also made a “terkle” for Uncle John. “’Cause Uncle John has a ouchy,” she explained. She showed them a patchwork circle, mostly in scraps of green, but with a couple of bits of purple and red where they had evidently run out of green. It was clearly meant to be a turtle, with tabs for the head, feet, and tail protruding from it. “For Uncle John,” she said.

“He’ll like that,” Peggy told her. “He’ll be home in a couple of days, and you can give it to him then.” Katie nodded and went off to play with Little Baby, and Peggy marveled, not for the first time, at how normal Katie was, how despite her unpredictable life, Katie was happy and trusting, and adored all of them. She and Eliza watched Katie trot off, chatting to her tiny doll, and Eliza smiled. “I have the best sisters,” she said.

They filled Herc in on John’s progress and the plans for the next couple of days, and had some dinner. At around ten o’clock, Angelica, Alex, and Gil arrived. Eliza had gone to bed not long after Katie had. They were all exhausted.

“Go to bed, everybody,” Angelica said. “I’m going to stay out here with Alex.” She didn’t have to add that she was concerned that Alex would get up in the middle of the night to go see how John was doing.

“Did you guys have any dinner?” Herc asked.

“Yeah, Tony fed us,” Angelica assured him, waving her hand to shoo them all off. “Go.”

They went, Herc to the bunk room with only him and Eliza sleeping in it tonight, and Peggy and Gil to their bed, quietly, so as not to disturb Katie, who slept peacefully, Little Baby clutched in her hand. Gil bent over her and listened to her breathing, then kissed his finger and touched it to her face. He sat down on the bed and finally let go of the tight control he’d kept in place all day. He sobbed as if he were Katie’s age, bent over with his hands clasped between his knees, while Peggy stroked his back and murmured that she loved him. After a while, his tears subsided, and he reached for her.

 _“J’suis désolé, chérie,”_ he said. _“J’avais si peur …”_ His English seemed to have vanished entirely.

“We were all afraid,” she told him. “We were terrified.”

 _“Mais, moi, j’avais sa vie dans mes mains,”_ he said, and she could hear the fear in his voice.

“But he’s okay,” she said. “You saved his life, you and Ben.”

 _“Et toi,”_ he reminded her, his lips against her hair.

He put his arms around her and swung them both up into the bed.

He kissed her for so long it took her breath away.

 _“Tu es à moi,”_ he asserted. _“Toi et Katie, vous êtes à moi.”_

“Yours,” she said, affirming it.

“Mine. I promised I would keep you safe.” It broke her heart to hear the pain in his voice.

“Gil, _chéri,”_ she said gently, feeling centuries wiser than the seventeen-year-old girl he had made that promise to, “there’s no safe place. We can’t promise what doesn’t exist.”

“I thought I could. I thought …”

“Sh,” she whispered. “Stop. Look at where we are. Look at what we have. Some people go their whole lives without this.”

His right hand tangled in her curls and his left slid down her back, pushed up her shirt, and tore off her panties. Gil, always the gentlest of lovers, rolled over her and pulled her up to him, using his physical strength in a way he never had before. He wasn’t rough – not Gil, not ever – but his silence and his fierce intensity shook her profoundly, and when it was over, they both lay gasping.

“Mine,” he said again, and she realized he had never let go of her hair.

“Mine,” she said back, and he finally smiled.

 _“On n’est plus à soi-même,”_ he murmured.

“As much yours as my own,” she agreed.

Sleep finally came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to apologize for whatever lack of medical accuracy is evident to anybody who actually knows something. My medical knowledge is based on my experience of being the only Humanities major in a family of science majors: Dr. Brian, Dr. Alan, and not-quite-Dr.-but-still-annoyingly-condescending Tony. I survived only by learning enough to defend myself -- oh, and becoming fluent in languages they don't speak, which serves me well to this day. Our common language was snark. Our parents thought we were hilarious, probably because they had no idea what we were talking about.  
> Strangely, I love them all.  
> Fact is, John would probably not have survived, but hey, that's why we write and read fiction. I think he's going to be okay.


	17. What Are You Doing, Lee?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The squad finds out how the mission went wrong. A short chapter, but Tony's story is over when it's over, no matter what Alex says.

Dawn came, another cold, gray, drizzly day. Herc, always the first one up, loaded the woodstove, got the fire going, and started the big pot of oatmeal. Everybody else was still asleep, Angelica and Alex were sprawled on the sofa bed, Angelica with both an arm and a leg thrown over Alex, probably to keep him in place. Herc made tea and, grabbing a jacket, went outside and stood in the clearing in front of the cabin to drink it.

John was alive. If anything had happened during the night, Tony or Jack would have come to tell them. When he and Jack had carried John into Tony’s cabin yesterday, he hadn’t believed that John could survive. The ambush, the crash, the shooting, the wild ride back to the cabin, Tony yelling to him to keep pressure on the wound as he knelt over John in the back seat, Jack driving with the accelerator flat to the floor, both of them cursing a blue streak, and John, bleeding, looking up at him, fear in his eyes, so pale that every freckle stood out as if it had been marked with sepia ink.

Blood everywhere, and John dying under his hands.

It was war. He knew, had always known, that they were at war. He’d known others who’d died – Nat Hale, who’d been a good friend, Molly’s husband Will, Betsy, a couple of guys from his New York neighborhood.  They all accepted that they could die at any time, on any mission, and he would rather die on a mission than be captured by King’s Greaters.

Knowing that didn’t prepare him to watch John die, though.

Well, John hadn’t died. John was alive, thanks to Ben and Gil and Peggy. It didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be death resulting from yesterday’s mission, though. It was Tony’s story to tell, not his, but he didn’t envy Tony and Alex the choices they were going to have to face.

He finished his tea and went back inside to find Gil and Peggy eating oatmeal and Eliza sleepily drinking a cup of tea. Katie was sitting on her stool eating her oatmeal out of the Elmo mug. Angelica was trying to coax Alex to get up so that they could close the sofa bed. There was a brief struggle for the blanket, then Alex reluctantly got to his feet. A few minutes later, he and Angelica joined the rest of them.

“I wish we had sugar for the oatmeal,” Alex said, probably for about the three hundredth time.

“There’s a nationwide sugar shortage,” Angelica reminded him. “We contribute to it at every opportunity to keep making things difficult for King. You not only know that, you have planned missions to disrupt sugar supplies.”

“I know,” Alex sighed. “I can still wish we had it, though. How about honey?”

“In short supply also because people use it as a sugar substitute, and why am I even answering these questions?” Angelica concentrated on her oatmeal and ignored Alex for the next ten minutes.

“Tony’s coming up this morning, right?” Eliza asked.

Herc nodded.

“Is he going to tell us what was going on with a car having to be ditched and all the other stuff yesterday?” Gil wanted to know.

“That’s up to him,” Herc said. “He was in charge of the mission, so he decides how much information to give out.”

“Do you know what went on?” Angelica asked.

Herc nodded again, not making eye contact with anyone. “Yeah.”

Angelica looked at him expectantly, and he shook his head. “No,” he told her. “Either it comes from Tony or you don’t hear about it.” He started gathering up dishes to wash. “If it’s okay with you, Alex,” he said, “I’m going to go down and see John in a few minutes. Tony can come up here to talk to you guys, and I’ll stay there in case they need me.”

“Yeah, sure,” Alex said. “Tell John I’ll be down later.”

When Tony arrived a while later, they were surprised to see that Herc had come back with him. Tony had dark circles under his eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. Herc just looked grim. They dragged kitchen chairs into the living room and sat down.

“How’s John?” Angelica asked immediately.

“Ben says he’s doing well,” Herc told her. “No fever, blood pressure is back to normal. He says he might send him back tomorrow, since John’s starting to be a pain in the ass.”

“Oh?”

“Well, last time Ben checked the incision, John told him to fuck off.”

“That’s our boy,” Alex said with a grin, but Herc’s smile was constrained and didn’t reach his eyes.

“Are you going to tell us how it happened now?” Alex asked Tony.

Tony nodded, “Yeah, but first, I want you to know I was up all night getting messages back and forth with the General. There was a lot to talk about and some decisions have been made. You may or may not like them, but the General’s word is final – you know that.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Alex asked.

Tony looked around at them all, even Katie, off to the side playing with her Little Baby doll. “I’ve got the General’s okay to disclose mission details to all of you. It’s a long story and ugly, but the decisions have been made. You need to keep that in mind, especially you, Alex.”

Herc knew exactly what Tony was talking about. Alex was going to lose his mind and it would probably take all of them to keep him under control. That’s why he had come back with Tony. That, and the fact that he could back up everything Tony said, since the details were burned permanently into his memory.

It had started like any other routine mission: ambush an armored car that might be carrying confiscated property of alleged seditionists on the curve of a rural, wooded road. They’d done it a hundred times, and the plan didn’t vary much. First, pick a location that couldn’t easily be seen from vehicles traveling in either direction. Second, block the road with the SUV so that the target car had to stop. One of them – in this case, Charlie Lee – would stay in the driver’s seat of the SUV. The others – himself, John, Jack, and Tony – would be concealed in the wooded areas on the road so that when the armored car stopped, they’d be on either side and behind it. Force the driver and guard out of the armored car at gunpoint and secure them with duct tape, then empty the car’s contents into sacks, get back into the SUV and go. The whole procedure should take only five to ten minutes. Sure, there’d been times when things hadn’t gone according to plan. A couple of times there’d been too many other vehicles on the road, and they’d had to abandon the mission. Once or twice, the driver or guard of the armored car had gotten a few shots off, or they’d found the car was an empty decoy, but on the whole, it was a plan that had worked reliably for them.

Yesterday, everything that could possibly go wrong had done so. For starters, Tony didn’t much like the location that they’d been given. Yes, it was on a sharp curve with plenty of woods on both sides, but there was a road running from northwest to southeast that joined the main road just before the curve. That meant they’d have to keep watch in three directions instead of two. In the misty drizzle it was already hard to see more than a few yards down the road.

They’d gotten to the location at dawn, with the car due to pass that way within an hour. Herc kept watch to the west, the direction it was supposed to be coming from, with binoculars. There was almost no other traffic on the road, only a car passing about every half hour, so things looked pretty good. When he saw the outline of the armored car in the distance, he signaled Charlie Lee to drive the SUV across the road to block it just around the curve where the armored car wouldn’t see it till too late. Up to that point, things went well. Then they didn’t.

The armored car stopped for the SUV all right, but no sooner had they forced the driver and guard out than another car – a Chevy Malibu – came down from the the northwest intersecting road going way too fast and saw the stopped armored car a second too late. The driver slammed on his brakes and spun out on the wet road, his right rear fender smashing into the car. That gave the armored car guard two seconds to pick up the gun he’d just tossed into the road and the firefight began. Jack took out the guard, but the driver had also retrieved his gun, and he was the one who shot John. Just as Tony’s shot hit the driver in the arm, they heard the squealing of tires and realized that Charlie Lee was turning the SUV back onto the road and taking off.

He was fucking leaving them behind with John shot and bleeding.

By then the driver of the Chevy had phoned for help and they heard sirens. Tony made a split second decision. He and Jack yanked the driver and passenger – a middle aged couple who were probably completely harmless but terrified out of their minds – out of their car while Herc tried to keep John from bleeding out. They used a couple of yards of duct tape to keep them still, then jumped in the Chevy, dragged Herc and John into the back seat, and raced back to the cabin.

“Here’s the kicker,” Tony was saying when he got to that part. “Charlie Lee was there. He’s so goddam stupid that he came back to the cabin with his cockamamie story of how we were hopelessly surrounded and he was the only survivor. He nearly shit himself when we walked in.”

“He’s a mother fucking coward,” Herc said then, speaking for the first time.

“Is he dead?” Alex asked, his eyes glittering.

“No,” Tony said, “he’s handcuffed to a post in the shed.”

“I’ll kill him,” Alex said.

“No,” Tony told him. “The General wants him to stand trial.”

“Fuck the General,” Alex said.

Angelica put her hand on Alex’s arm. Alex slapped it away, standing up and pacing. “I’ll fucking kill him myself,” he said.

Tony stood up and got between Alex and the rack of guns near the door.

Jack looked across the room at Gil and nodded almost imperceptibly.

“The night we blew up the bridge, Charlie Lee ran,” Gil said. “We couldn’t prove anything, but he gave the signal too soon so he could get out. We were still too close, but we blew it anyway, and some of us got hurt.”

His voice was level, but Peggy could hear the ice in it. She remembered his face when Ben had had to work on his leg without Novocain, and she felt like she could kill Charlie Lee herself.

“We knew it back then,” Jack said, “but we hoped we were wrong.”

No wonder Tony looked so weary. “We’re sending him out today,” he said.

“You’re going to let him go?” Alex asked, two inches from Tony’s face.

“Alex, come on,” Tony said. “This is why I told you up front that the General had made his decision. You know what the outcome’s going to be. You know Lee won’t survive. Let the General deal with him.”

“Let me get to my gun,” Alex said, his voice dangerously quiet.

“Alex,” Angelica ventured, “listen to Tony.”

“Fuck off,” Alex told her.

“Alex,” Gil said, while Jack stepped up to stand next to Tony, “you can’t take it into your own hands. We don’t act like King.”

Alex turned on Gil. “And you think because of that I won’t do it? You think I won't put a bullet in his fucking head? He left John to die. Give me my fucking gun.” He swung around, and it was Eliza who stepped in front of him. She put out her arms.

“Stop,” she said gently. “Remember who you are. Remember who we are and what we’re doing. Tony's got it in hand. Let him finish it.”

“Lee left John to die,” Alex said again, choking.

Eliza took a step forward. “John didn’t die,” she reminded him.

Alex closed the distance between them and fell into her arms, sobbing.

Tony looked at the rest of them. “I want to get Lee as far away from us as possible as soon as possible. I’ve asked Jack and Herc to drive him to the General’s headquarters. It means I’ve had to get clearance for them to know the location, but that’s done. Oh, and they’re taking Jamie too.”

“Jamie?” Peggy asked. “Why?”

“Because she makes me sick. She spent all day yesterday crying over how mean we were being to poor Charlie Lee while Gil and Ben were trying to save John’s life. A life that Lee was ready to throw away to save his own ass. She’s useless to us.”

“You’re going to be two guys short,” Gil said.

“The General’s got replacements coming in,” Tony answered. “I just want to get that mother fucking coward Lee and stupid bitch Jamie out of here. Jack and Herc will leave in an hour or so, in the SUV. Lee and Jamie will be arm and leg shackled in the back. They’ll be chained to the walls of the SUV. Jack and Herc will be safe.”

 _Safe?_ Peggy thought. _How are any of us safe?_ Hadn’t she just said that to Gil last night? She wanted to grab him and Katie and run away to a place where they could all be safe, but that was a fairy-tale that she had long abandoned. She reached over and took Gil’s hand and he gave her a look that she knew so well by now – not a smile, but sharing of what they knew. _I love you. I trust you. We take love where we find it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was General "Mad Anthony" Wayne's troops that Charles Lee's panicky retreat left unprotected at the Battle of Monmouth. Washington rarely lost his temper, but when he did, he had an ample supply of colorful words at hand. When he confronted Lee on the battlefield, he called him a "damned poltroon." Sounds about right to me.  
> There will be a lot going on in the Movement soon, as TJ gets a new assignment, Tony gets replacements in his squad, and Burr begins to help out.  
> What comes next? What part does our squad play in all this? How do the changes affect their relationships?  
> Thanks so much for the kudos and comments. You guys are the best.


	18. How Lucky We Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John recuperates in the comfy chair. Alex meets Burr and Desi. Tony gets new squad members.

John came home the next day. Gil went down to help move him; they had to rig a makeshift stretcher out of a door.

“You damn well better put my bedroom door back on by tonight,” Molly said, making John laugh and then swear because laughing hurt like hell.

They wrapped him in every blanket they had and strapped him onto the door with belts, then needed four people to carry him. Molly said that she had already made her contribution with the sacrifice of her bedroom door, so Gil, Jack, Ben, and Tony each took a corner of the door and walked nearly a mile up the path to the other cabin. The path was only wide enough for one person, really, so they all got swatted with small branches as they made their way. John yelled at every bump, then laughed, then cursed some more because the whole thing was so ridiculous. When they got to the cabin, everybody came out to help, and somehow, eventually, they got John inside without dropping him. They put the door on the kitchen table, giving all of them a few seconds of frightening _déjà vu_ , but John was conscious and talking and acting like himself.

“You think you can sit up for a while?” Ben asked.

“Yeah, sure,” John said, “but I get the comfy chair, right? Because I’m wounded and all?”

Eliza eyed him with suspicion. “Are you going to use your injury to get special privileges?” she asked.

“Fuck, yeah,” John said with a grin.

John got the comfy chair, and if Eliza had been honest, she would have admitted that, like all of them, she’d sit on broken glass every day of her life as long as John was okay. There he was, looking like himself. His color was back to normal, his hair curled in its adorable ringlets, and he was smiling. Alex pulled one of the kitchen chairs over next to the comfy chair, and just sat looking at him, every now and then petting his hair or his hand. Herc made tea, and they each had a cup, then Tony, Jack and Ben had to leave so that they could give Molly back her door.

They were all home now. John wasn’t talking much, just looking at them all and smiling. He was still tired, and it would be a few weeks before he would be back to regular activities, but he was home.

Katie finished her weak tea with powdered milk, went to the bedroom and came back with both hands behind her back. She stood in front of John and looked at him seriously.

“Do you have a ouchy, Uncle John?” she asked.

He nodded. “I do,” he told her.

“Where is it?” she wanted to know.

“It’s over here, under my shirt,” he said, gesturing.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “it does. It’s getting better, though.”

Katie nodded understandingly and handed him the small green bundle that she had been hiding behind her back. “This is to make you feel better,” she said. “It’s a terkle.”

John unrolled it and grinned. “That is a really great terkle,” he said.

“Uncle Herc helped me make it,” Katie admitted.

“Uncle Herc is good at making things,” John said, with a smile in Herc’s direction. “Thank you very much for this terkle.”

“Terkle,” Katie said.

“Yes, it’s a great terkle.”

“No, _terkle_ ,” Katie repeated emphatically.

“That’s what I said,” John agreed. “Terkle.”

Katie looked at him in exasperation. “Why do you keep saying it wrong?”

That made John laugh way too much and Gil swept Katie up and tickled her. They all drifted back to their everyday activities. Alex had to get information from the General’s office, Herc and Peggy were still washing all the clothes that had been covered in bloodstains. Eliza had knitting to get to, even if she had to do it on the couch. Gil and Angelica were going to take their turn at the endless task of splitting wood for the stove, their only source of heat. Everything was getting done, but for the rest of the day, they all stopped by the chair where John sat dozing to stroke his hair, give him a kiss, or just touch his shoulder.

That night at dinner, Alex looked around the table and said, “For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.”

“I’m not your son,” John reminded him.

Alex shrugged. “Metaphorically speaking.”

“If you say so,” John said. “Is that a poem or something?”

“It’s from the Bible,” Alex told him.

“Okay.”

“You know what the next line is?” Alex asked.

“No clue. What?”

“And they began to be merry.”

John grinned. “Now _that’s_ what I’m talking about!” he said, and took a big mouthful of rice and beans.

* * * * *

It was a week before they got official word from the General about Charlie Lee. He had been tried before a panel of three judges on the charge of desertion and cowardice in the face of the enemy. It was a capital charge. He had been found guilty and executed by hanging two days later.

They had all expected the outcome, so there was no surprise. Peggy had thought she’d feel worse about it, but she couldn’t recall a single good memory she had of Charlie Lee. Every time she looked at John, she thought how close they had come to losing him. She wasn’t going to waste any tears on Charlie Lee.

Alex had gotten approval from General Akhdir to contact Aaron Burr directly, so he had set up a meeting. Burr’s sister didn’t want to be involved anymore, so they would be meeting at the home of Burr’s girlfriend. Her name was Desi Bartow, and Burr had met her at work, so there was the possibility of another source in the Customs office.

Gil, Peggy, Alex, and Eliza were going shopping again, then dropping Alex off at Desi’s while they stayed at Grammy Nell’s for an hour or so. They got their shopping done quickly because Alex was itching to meet with Burr and get some information gathering started. Gil dropped him a couple of blocks from Desi’s house in a very nice neighborhood and arranged to be back in an hour.

It was pretty clear just from the look of the neighborhood and the house that that Desi was a Have, which made Alex cautious, but there were Haves who supported the Movement. Not many, because most of them liked their luxuries, but some, and it seemed Desi might be one of them.

It was she who opened the door. She was tall enough to look him right in the eye, and stunningly beautiful, with dark skin and hair in a cascade of long silky braids. The braids ended in multi-colored wooden beads, and when she moved, they clicked together like a chorus of cicadas. She was wearing tight jeans and a white shirt that looked like it might be silk, along with an armful of thin bangle bracelets. She smelled like soap and cinnamon.

She looked at him speculatively. "So you must be James," She said. "I'm Desi. Come on in."

Burr was in the well-appointed living room, sitting stiffly upright in a dark red leather chair. He looked uneasy, as if he was still hadn’t quite made up his mind to get involved in this. Desi directed Alex to a chair that matched Burr's.

“Coffee?" she asked as he took his seat.

Alex accepted eagerly, and Burr nodded. Desi left the room and brought back a tray with an elegant porcelain coffee pot, cream colored with green and gold bands. There were cups, saucers, and both a cream pitcher and a sugar bowl on the tray as well. An actual sugar bowl filled with sugar. Desi poured the coffee while Alex calculated how many spoonfuls of sugar he could get into his cup before it overflowed.

It was six. Six spoonfuls of sugar brought the level of the amber liquid in the cup to the very rim. Alex lifted it to his lips without spilling a drop. God, that was the best thing he'd tasted in more than two years. He'd welcome Desi's help in the Movement if only to get an occasional packet of sugar. He knew Angelica would be telling him not to be distracted by unimportant details, but he wanted to consider all factors. Sugar could be a factor. He did realize, though, that his conversation with Burr was not going to be about sugar.

Desi had taken a seat on the small sofa at right angles to the leather chairs. She kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet up under her, perfectly relaxed. Alex and Burr stumbled through a few minutes of small talk, and then Alex got to his first point.

"Are we sure this room is secure?" he asked.

Burr nodded.

"Absolutely," Desi said. "This house is in my boyfriend's name."

Alex looked back at Burr, puzzled.

"Not Aaron," Desi told him. "My other boyfriend."

“What do you mean?”

"I'm seeing Jimmy Prevost," Desi explained. "Well, he thinks I’m seeing him, but I’m actually keeping up the act so I can use the house and things."

"I see," Alex said.

“Jimmy Prevost is on King’s Philadelphia staff,” Burr explained.

“Oh, shit.”

“He’s really quite useful,” Desi said calmly, taking a sip of coffee. “He’s not … um … the brightest crayon in the box, let’s say, and he’s hardly ever home, so I have the place to myself most of the time. It’s nice, isn’t it?” she added, waving vaguely at the surroundings.

“Very nice.”

“I met Aaron at work,” Desi continued, “and, well, we became interested in one another, and one thing led to another.” She gave Burr a flirtatious smile, and ran her tongue along her lips, laughing.

Alex took a look at Burr, who was, as Eliza had said, very good-looking, but clearly a little uncomfortable.

“Come on, Des,” Burr said. “James is going to think you can’t be serious.”

Desi nodded. “Aaron and I have talked a lot,” she went on. “I know he wants to work with you, and I want to help out. I can get things that you can use, things like extra phones.” She leaned forward. “Look, I know I might seem like I’m just another Have with cute clothes and a fresh manicure, but those aren’t my priorities. I’m keeping up the Have appearance so I can use it, and I’m perfectly willing to use Jimmy Prevost too.”

“Why?” Alex asked bluntly. “Really, both of you, why?”

Burr spoke first. “At one time, I thought that King might be what the country needed,” he said. “You know, a firm hand, a strong leader. Yeah, well, I was wrong on that. Washington was a strong leader, but he balanced his strength with respect for liberty. King has trashed our country to benefit himself and his friends. He’s only as strong as his strongest troop of Greaters because he’s really a weak leader. There used to be a lot of Hopes who supported him, or at least were willing to give him a chance. Not anymore.”

“Is that what you see, really?” Alex asked, trying not to read too much optimism into Burr’s words.

Burr nodded. “I see people ready for change,” he said.

Alex turned to Desi. “And why are you interested in the Movement?” he asked.

“Basically, I’m tired of jackasses like Jimmy Prevost who think that their friendship with King is all they need. King’s circle is rotting from the inside out. Nobody has any real knowledge or ability; that’s why they need the Greaters to control things. Nobody respects King – they just fear the Greaters. I hear people talking. Remember, I hang out with Haves, and even among them, there’s talk about how King is no Washington. There’s a – restlessness, I guess I would call it. People who want something better, but aren’t sure what that might be. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that many Haves are ready to overthrow King, not yet. But that will come.”

Alex heard the earnestness in her voice. Despite the glossy trappings of a successful Have, Desi recognized the shallowness of King’s appeal. It was what the General had been saying all along.

“Well, then,” Alex said, “let’s get started.”

*     *     *     *     *

Grammy Nell gave Gil the money she had gotten for the cigarettes from the last visit, and added to it a bag of oranges that she had bartered for the last carton. Peggy was so excited she was almost in tears.

“I don’t think Katie has ever seen an orange,” she said, rolling one in her hand just so she could feel its pebbled skin.

Eliza picked one up and sniffed it. “Oh, it smells so good!” she sighed. She gave Grammy Nell a hug. “Thank you!”

They had caught Grammy Nell up on the news and assured her that John was going to be all right. She was pleased to hear that Alex was meeting with Burr, since she had helped to bring it about.

“Do you think things are going to start moving faster?” she asked. “I’m not young, you know, and I’d like to see free elections before I die.”

“Maybe,” Gil told her. “I think things are happening. You know we can’t talk about it, though, right?”

“Oh, I know, I know,” she said, waving her hand at him. “And I suppose you think that charming smile of yours will make up for not telling me anything!”

“You see right through me, Grammy Nell,” Gil admitted, continuing to smile.

Peggy leaned her head on his shoulder. “It really is irresistible,” she said.

“If Angelica were here, she’d tell you to cut it out,” Eliza said. “I’ll let you slide.”

“Thank you,” Gil said and leaned down to kiss Peggy.

“Okay, now I’m calling it,” Eliza declared. “Honestly, don’t you two ever stop?”

Gil and Peggy looked at each other. “Honestly, no,” Peggy said.

Grammy Nell laughed at them. “Well, I like to see young people in love,” she said, helping Eliza gather up their things. “Tell John I’m praying for him, and give him a kiss from me.”

They picked Alex up around the corner from Desi’s and drove back to the cabin, the smell of oranges filling the car.

Not long after they got home, Tony showed up with two people they didn’t recognize. He was about to introduce them when Herc suddenly said, “Liz? Liz Burgin?”

The red-haired woman gasped and threw herself at Herc, yelling, “Hercules Mulligan!”

“I think they know each other,” Alex commented helpfully as they jumped up and down, hugging and laughing.

“Liz and I went to high school together,” Herc explained.

“Okay,” Tony said, “as I was about to tell you, that’s Liz Burgin and this is Joe Lawrence.”

“Hi,” Joe said, sketching a wave. “I went to high school too, but not with anybody here.” He had a shaved head and a friendly smile that showed a slightly crooked front tooth.

“Liz and Joe are the newest squad members, obviously,” Tony said. “I’m still one short since Ben is non-active, but we should be okay for now.”

Herc offered to make tea, and Liz helped him, the two of them catching up on news.

Alex walked around introducing everybody. “The stupendous Schuyler sisters, Angelica, Eliza, Peggy, and Katie,” he announced with a wave of his hand. “Katie is the little one, and Peggy is the one who is usually attached to His Lordship the Most Honourable Marquis de Lafayette.”

“Stop,” Peggy protested.

“Shut up,” Gil said. He put out his hand. “Hi, I’m Gil, no matter what Alexander says.”

“Oh, it’s Alexander now?” Alex asked.

“It’s always Alexander when you piss me off.”

Alex ignored him and went on. “The guy in the only comfortable chair in the house is John Laurens, resident artist, forger, and turtle aficionado. He’s recovering from an injury, so we’re letting him have the chair for a while, but as soon as Dr. Gil says he’s okay, he’s out.”

Liz looked impressed. “You’re a doctor and a French nobleman?” he asked.

“No,” Gil said, “not a doctor. I was pre-med when I was dismissed from university for being a foreigner, so I help Ben out a little. And I don’t use the French title.”

“You know, Alex, if you were trying to confuse the new guys, you’d be doing a great job,” Angelica commented.

“Yeah,” John agreed, “and you didn’t tell them that my name is actually John Laurens-Schuyler.”

That required a brief explanation, and then Alex finished up, “… and last but never least, Hercules Mulligan.”

“Always last, though, Alex,” Herc said, looking fake-sad.

“They’ll figure it out,” Tony said. “I still can’t tell Angelica and Eliza apart unless one of them is telling Alex off. That’s always Angelica.”

Liz and Joe looked at Angelica’s warm brown skin and masses of curls next to Eliza’s porcelain complexion and long straight hair.

“That’s a joke, right?” Joe asked.

“You’re catching on,” Angelica said.

“Although Tony was right about the ‘telling Alex off’ thing,” Herc commented.

“And that’s us,” Alex finished proudly.

“Yeah, and this guy who talks all the time is Alex Hamilton,” Tony said.

“Did I forget to introduce myself?” Alex asked.

“Yes, but believe me, we all know who you are,” Gil said.

“Okay, then, I need to talk to Tony for a couple of minutes,” Alex told them, and he and Tony went outside.

“You think Alex is going to tell us what he and Burr talked about today?” Angelica asked.

Gil shrugged. “That may be what he’s talking to Tony about right now. It’s need-to-know, so it will depend on what’s planned next.”

Before Tony left, Eliza gave him three oranges for his squad to welcome Liz and Joe. At dinner, she cut up four more so that they each got a half for dessert after their rice and beans. Katie was absolutely enchanted by the smell and taste of the magical new food. John told them to save the peels and grate them to add to their oatmeal. _How strange that a few oranges can bring such excitement,_ Peggy thought, and then, almost immediately, _How lucky we are. How lucky we are to be alive._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gone back and added chapter titles. I'm not sure why, and it's obviously not something I'm good at, but there they are. Better title suggestions welcome!  
> I may or may not get one more chapter up this weekend, and then there's going to be a delay before the next one. I am leaving town next week to go visit NYC on Election Day -- oh, and to see a very popular show there about our first Secretary of the Treasury [Feel free to insert fangirl screaming here]. I am really going to be in the Room Where -- well, you know.  
> I doubt I'll get much writing done during that time, so it looks like at least a week between chapters. Maybe more if I'm still crying over Laurens/Philip when I get home, but hang in there; I'll be back.  
> In the meantime, merci mille fois (at least) for the kudos and comments. I love you guys!


	19. As Long as I’m Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil makes a promise, the squad celebrates Christmas, and some unexpected guests arrive.

December was cold. No surprise there, of course, but the wood stove was gulping logs so fast that they could hardly keep up. Everybody wore extra layers, and Peggy was fretting about Katie outgrowing her clothes.

“I have to get her some more pants,” she told Gil. “She’s still got some tops that fit, but the pants are so small that they pinch, and she won’t wear them.”

“That explains why she was wearing Eliza’s pajama bottoms this morning,” Gil said.

“It’s better than nothing.”

They didn’t spend money on clothes. They had all arrived with their own clothes and had made do. They supplemented with easy-to-steal things like socks, and Eliza’s constant knitting had helped. Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy could wear each other’s clothes. John and Alex traded off, as did Gil and Herc. Gil was taller, and Herc was broader, but for things like tee shirts and sweats, it didn’t matter. Nobody could trade clothes with Katie, though.

“Well,” said Gil, “We’re going to have to tell Alex we need a card loaded to get Katie some new clothes.”

They sat down with him after dinner. He nodded agreement. “I ought to be able to get a couple hundred dollars,” he said. “You should let John and Angelica go, though, since they get better stuff.” As Haves, John and Angelica had the right to buy better quality items and more of them. “Do you think John is well enough to go shopping, Gil?”

Gil nodded. “As long as he doesn’t do any heavy lifting, pushing or pulling,” he said.

“Okay,” Alex agreed, “I’ll tell him to leave the heavy lifting to Angelica. It might take me a couple of days to get a card loaded, but I’ll let them know to be ready.”

John was thrilled at the prospect of getting out. He was feeling fine most of the time, except for an occasional ache, but Gil and Ben were still keeping him from strenuous activities. He’d gotten all the mileage he could out of his recuperation, and even Eliza had stopped babying him. She’d reclaimed the comfy chair a week ago, not without difficulty. John was back to the couch or, more often, the floor.

“Hey,” he said, snagging Katie by the ankle as she went by, “what kind of clothes do you want Aunt Angelica and me to buy you when we go shopping?”

Katie sat down next to him. “Purple,” she said.

“All purple?” John asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“Purple jeans?” asked Angelica, joining them.

“Uh-huh.”

“Purple socks, purple underwear?”

Katie nodded firmly, giggling.

“Purple shoes?” John asked.

That gave Katie pause. She frowned and turned to Peggy, “ _Tatie_ , is there purple shoes?”

“Probably not in your size, sweetie,” Peggy told her. “And Ange and John, do not come home with only purple stuff. By next week, she may like lime green.”

“Spoilsport,” Angelica said.

A few days later, John and Angelica, beautifully groomed and dressed, took off in the Audi. They promised to bring back a whole new wardrobe for Katie, and maybe something fresh for dinner if it was possible.

It was a cold and cloudy day, and in the early afternoon it began to snow a little, fluffy flakes that drifted slowly to the ground. Katie was napping and after the snow had fallen just enough to start to cover the ground, Gil took Peggy’s hand. “Come on,” he said, “let’s go for a walk in the snow.”

“It’s cold out there,” she protested.

“So bundle up.” He pulled her hand and gave her that smile. “Come on. It’s pretty out.”

“Go outside and play, children,” Alex said, not looking up from the phones and papers.

“Anybody else want to come?” Peggy asked.

Eliza was knitting and Herc was mending a pile of socks, so there were no takers. Peggy got her coat and, as ordered, bundled up in hat, mittens, and scarf.

“Let’s go look at the lake in the snow,” Gil said as they crossed the clearing.

Peggy smiled. Gil was right. It was pretty out, and even though it was cold, it was fun to be outside.

“Race?” she challenged.

“We can’t race on that path,” he objected. “There’s hardly room – hey!”

Peggy had taken off, and when he got to the lake, she was sitting on one of the flat rocks.

“I won,” she announced.

“You cheated,” he said, sitting down next to her and putting his gun carefully to his side.

“Your word against mine,” she told him, “and everybody knows I’m faster.”

“Come here,” he said, putting his arm around her.

“I can’t get any closer.”

“Sure, you can.” He lifted her onto his lap.

“Mm, thank you,” she said. “The rocks are cold.”

“Mm-hmm, I know.”

Snowflakes floated down and sparkled in her hair. He looked up at the sky and caught one on his tongue.

She giggled and put her head down on his chest. “I like it here.”

“Here?” he asked, gesturing out toward the lake, “or here?” pulling her closer.

“Both, but mostly here,” she said, kissing his neck.

He slid his hand up to hold her head, and kissed her sweet mouth. _“Petit mouton,”_ he murmured. _“Je t’aime, mon amour.”_

 _“Je t’aime aussi,”_ she responded.

“Not too cold?”

“Mm-mm, not here.”

They watched the snow fall on the lake and listened to the silence for a while.

“I want to marry you,” he said, suddenly very serious.

“I want to marry you too.” It was something they’d talked about a thousand times, their life afterward. After King was gone, after free elections were held, after there was no more need for the Movement. They would get married and Gil would finish medical school. They would buy a big house and have five or six kids, and everybody would come for Thanksgiving. It was what John had promised, that night they were on the step waiting for Gil. They would live happily ever after, like in Katie’s fairy tales.

The thing was, the whole idea had become almost as unreal as Katie’s fairy tales, a happily-ever-after that seemed so far away that they couldn’t even see it anymore.

"No, I mean I want to marry you now,” Gil said. “Actually, I wanted to marry you two years ago.”

Peggy sat up and slid off his lap so she could look straight at him. “Gil, you know we can’t. We don’t even have legal ID’s. And anyway, how much difference would it make? I think we’re about as close to married as it’s possible to be.”

He grinned suddenly. “Ah, but if we were married, you would be _Madame la Marquise de Lafayette!”_

“Are you trying to tempt me with a title?”

“We could live in the castle,” he said.

“What castle? You’ve got a castle? Why haven’t you ever told me?’

“I was saving it to propose to you.”

They were both laughing, and then he got down on one knee, and Peggy stopped laughing.

“Margarita Schuyler,” Gil said, “will you marry me right now?”

“Gil, _chéri_ , of course, yes, but what are you talking about? You don’t have a judge or a minister hiding behind a tree, do you?”

He shook his head, his eyes on hers. “No minister, no documents, no witnesses. But marriage isn’t any of those things. It’s the promises you make. So …” and he put his hand in his pocket and when he brought it out, he took her left hand, removed her mitten, and slid a ring onto her finger.

She gasped. It was neither a traditional wedding band nor an engagement ring. It was a single thin piece of silver twisted into a ring with the ends finishing in double hearts.

He held her hand and said, “With this ring, I thee wed, and I will love you and cherish you, and be faithful to you until death.” He wiped the tears off her cheeks and asked, “Is it okay? I didn’t shock you?”

“Well, yes, you did, but not in a bad way. It’s fine. It’s wonderful!”

“Will you say it back to me?”

“Tell me again.”

“I will love you and cherish you and be faithful to you until death.”

She repeated it back to him. “I don’t have a ring for you.”

“It’s okay. It’s the promise that matters.”

“So you’re saying we’re married now?”

“As far as I’m concerned, we are.”

Laughing, she threw her arms around his neck and he picked her up and spun her around in the gently falling snow. It was a beautiful wedding day. It was completely crazy, of course, but it was Gil. If there was no way, he simply made his own way, and took her along with him.

He kissed her, _“Alors, Madame la Marquise, ta bague de mariage te plaît?”_

“It’s beautiful,” she said, looking at her hand. “Where in the world did you get it?”

“John made it.”

“John made it? You’re kidding! How?” and then she suddenly realized what he was saying. “Wait, John knew?”

“Mm-hm. He was my accomplice.”

“Who else?”

“Who else what, _chérie?”_

“Don’t you play with me, Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette!” she warned.

“Oh, God, all the names! I am in trouble!” but he was smiling that smile.

“Everybody knew, didn’t they?”

“Mm, yes. But they’re all very happy for us.” He took her face in his hands. “I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have told anyone, but I wanted to be able to give you a ring, so I asked John for help, and word sort of got around.”

She stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “It’s fine. It’s crazy, but I should know to expect crazy things from you.”

“And we’re married.”

“We’re married. Just one thing …”

“What, _chérie?”_ he asked.

“Where’s the castle?”

He told her about the castle as they walked back to the cabin hand in hand. Apparently, there really was a family castle, although a fairly modest one, in that small town in France.

“It’s nice to visit, but I don’t really want to live there,” he told her. “You’re still _Madame la Marquise_ , though.”

“ _Peggy la Marquise,_ ” she said, trying it out.

“Maybe _Marguerite la Marquise?_ ” he suggested. “The French version of your name, as Margarita is the Spanish?”

“My dad and his fancy ideas! By the time Katie was born, Mom talked him into picking a normal American name.”

“You can use Peggy or Margarita or Marguerite, but I would like you to have my last name, if you’re okay with that.”

“I’d like it actually. Peggy Motier,” she said thoughtfully.

“It sounds nice,” Gil told her. They had reached the clearing and he bent to kiss her. “Are you ready to make a big announcement to everybody?”

“We should wait until John and Angelica come home,” she suggested.

“You’re right. I’ll do my best to be patient.”

From the knowing looks that Alex, Herc, and Eliza gave them, Peggy was pretty sure there was no secret, but nobody said anything. John and Angelica came home a couple of hours later with bags and boxes.

“We have surprises!” Angelica called out as they came in.

They unloaded everything onto the kitchen table. First, the pile of clothes for Katie, including lots of purple. Then a few more bags.

“There were a lot of people at the fancy supermarket,” John said, “so we stopped there. We had all our documentation and some money on one of the cards. I don’t know what was going on, but there must have been a big shipment that came in. Look at all this stuff.” He unpacked two chickens, apples, lemons, a small bottle of vegetable oil, a bag of flour, and a large can of coffee. Alex picked up the can of coffee and hugged it. Angelica pulled out the last item and dangled it in front of Alex’s eyes.

“Sugar!” she laughed. It wasn’t much sugar, maybe half a cup in a cotton fabric bag, but Alex jumped up and kissed her.

“Coffee with sugar for breakfast tomorrow!” John announced.

“Why not now?” Alex wanted to know.

“Because nobody will sleep,” Eliza told him. “We haven’t had coffee in weeks. We need to ease into it.”

Alex pouted a little, but must have realized the truth of what she said, because he didn’t argue. They put everything away and Katie modeled a few of her new outfits for them. Peggy promised that she could wear a purple shirt tomorrow.

Herc had already made the usual rice and beans for dinner, but John promised to roast the chickens the next night.

“It will seem like Christmas,” Peggy said.

“It must be almost Christmas, right?” Angelica reminded her. It was easy to lose track of the date, and they hadn’t celebrated Christmas the last two years. The first year they were all moving into the cabin and nobody felt up to it, and then last year they had had so little that they just let it go. This year was better; Alex had more success with hacking cards, and they weren’t hungry as often.

“What is today’s date, anyway?” Peggy asked, with a sidelong look at Gil. “I should know it.”

“And why is that, _chérie?”_ Gil asked.

“Maybe you should tell them.”

He took her hand and they both stood up. “Peggy and I have something to tell you,” he announced.

“Uh-oh,” Alex said. “I remember the last time you said that.”

“And you told me we were crazy.”

“I believe the expression I used was ‘fucking nuts,’” Alex corrected him, “but yes.”

“And how have things worked out?”

“What do you mean?”

“You thought Peggy and I were crazy two years ago when we decided to be together even though we had just met, right? And here we are, still together. We love each other. So maybe we weren’t so crazy. Now we have something else to tell you, and maybe you’ll think we’re crazy again, but this will work out too.”

“You’re sure of that?” Angelica asked.

“Oh, yes,” he replied.

Alex grinned. “I think this time we all have a pretty good idea of what the announcement is going to be, thanks to John.”

John smiled. “Hey, I was just sharing some happy news.”

“Well, then, let me make it official,” Gil said, pulling Peggy close and putting his arm around her. “This afternoon, Peggy and I got married. The ceremony was a little unconventional, but these are unconventional times, and we are just as married as if there was a big church service and hundreds of people.”

“Still crazy,” Angelica said, shaking her head.

“Fucking nuts,” Alex concurred.

“But anyway,” Eliza said, pulling them both into a hug, “congratulations.”

“Sorry I couldn’t make you a wedding cake,” Herc said.

“Who needs a cake?” Gil asked rhetorically, waving his hand.

“Or a license?” Alex asked, not so rhetorically.

“It’s the promise that matters,” Gil told him seriously.

“Well, you’re right on that,” Alex admitted. “I think I’ll kiss the bride.” He did, and so did John and Herc, and Angelica. Peggy showed them her ring although, as it turned out, they had already seen it, thanks to John.

“So what is today’s date, anyway?” Peggy asked. “I need to remember my wedding anniversary.”

“It’s December twenty-third,” Alex said.

“Really? Tomorrow is Christmas Eve?”

“You know,” said Eliza, “maybe we should celebrate Christmas this year. We’re going to have a chicken dinner for Christmas Eve anyway …”

“There are apples and some flour,” John said. “I could make a pie. Well, something like a pie.”

“I’ll bet we could get a tree decorated tomorrow morning if we tried,” Herc added.

“What are we going to decorate it with?” Angelica asked.

“I could make some little pompoms out of scrap yarn,” Eliza said.

“There’s some tin snips around here somewhere,” Herc said. “I could cut shapes out of tin cans. Stars, maybe.”

“Let’s do it!” Peggy said. “Think how much fun it will be for Katie.”

“If we do it,” Alex said, “we should invite Crazy Tony’s squad.”

“Is there enough food?” Eliza asked.

John shrugged. “We can stretch it. We’ll all just eat a little less.”

“It could be a combined Christmas Eve dinner and wedding celebration,” Gil said.

They looked at Alex as if was up to him. “We’ll end up using all the sugar at once,” he said a little sadly.

Angelica took his hand. “We should splurge. It’s been a long time.” She put her head down on his shoulder, and he put his arm around her.

“Yeah,” he said and kissed her. “Merry Christmas, kids.”

By dinnertime the next day, they had decorated a small evergreen that Gil had cut, placing it in a bucket with rocks to keep it upright. Eliza and Peggy had made pompoms out of every scrap of yarn or fabric they could find, and Herc had cut stars from the tops, bottoms, and sides of empty cans. Katie was absolutely enchanted by the indoor tree with the decorations and contributed a few hair ties that she stuck on random branches.

Tony’s squad had promised to bring some potatoes that they had scored on their last shopping trip, and Peggy found herself almost as excited as she had been about Christmas celebrations as a child in Albany. There might not be presents under the tree, and the tree itself lacked lights and tinsel, but she would be with her sisters and her – husband, she thought, trying the word out. Gil was her husband. Were they really married? Leap of faith, she reminded herself. More than two years ago, she and Gil had known that they loved each other and believed in themselves enough to commit to it. All they were doing now was taking the logical next step. It’s the promise that matters, Gil had said. She smiled to herself, looking at Katie sitting in front of the little tree. She and Gil were married, and it was Christmas.

Tony and his guys turned up with the potatoes, which John roasted along with the chicken, and served them with canned green beans. He had managed to make what he was calling an apple pie, although Herc thought it looked more like a cobbler, and Gil said it might be considered an American version of _tarte tatin_. Whatever it was, it turned out to be quite good, and everyone got a small sliver. Alex opened the remaining bottle of wine that Burr had sent via Grammy Nell, and toasted Gil and Peggy’s marriage. It was by far the most elaborate dinner any of them had had in years. Everyone was feeling sentimental, and even Jack Sullivan got a little teary-eyed, wishing Gil and Peggy a life of happiness.  
This must be what it will be like when it’s over, Peggy thought as Tony and his squad waved goodbye and went down the path. Someday this will just be normal life.  
She said as much to Gil after they were in bed, her head on his shoulder, his hand in her hair.

“Yes, maybe,” he said, “but we have to live the life we have right now. This is good.” He gently pulled on one of her curls just to see it bounce back. _“Petits resorts,”_ he said.

“Hm?”

“Your hair, _petit mouton_. It’s like little springs.”

She laughed. “Yours too, you know.”

“Mm, maybe, but yours is prettier.” He kissed her. “My lovely wife.”

“Remember those first days in your apartment in New York, when I was afraid to make love with you, but you would sleep with me so I wouldn’t have nightmares? You just held me, and I felt safe.”

“Mm-hm. What makes you think about that?”

“Just that I still feel safe with you. The whole world has gone crazy and we have no idea what the future might be, but I feel safe, right here, right now.”

“I promised I would keep you safe, but maybe I should have said, ‘I will do everything I can to keep you safe.’ That would have been the truth.” She could still hear the frustration in his voice, the bitter knowledge that he couldn’t guarantee her safety.

She curled closer to him and kissed his throat. “I’m safe now, here. And you’re right, now and here are all we have.”

_“Chérie, je t’aime à la folie.”_

She slid up on one elbow and bent over him, her hair tumbling down like a curtain, and kissed him slowly. “Maybe that’s what Alex meant,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

“What?”

“When he said we were nuts.”

“Those were not his exact words.”

“Close enough,” she said, kissing him again.

His arms came around her, and he slid the tee shirt over her head. “We were only married yesterday,” he said, his hands moving over her. “I think our honeymoon should last for a few weeks.”

She stayed on top of him, loving the way she could tease him, sliding her tongue along the inside of his lower lip, kissing him softly and slowly. She threw her panties on the floor and showed off for him, holding her hair back with both hands so that he could watch her breasts lift. He licked his lips, and she bent so that he could take her nipple in his mouth. She loved the way it felt, the way it made her want him inside her. She felt him big and hard under her and started to lower herself onto him, wanting it all, wanting to make it last, wanting to make him feel as good as he made her feel. She went very, very slowly, and he gasped, _“Chérie,_ you torture me.”

“Just a little,” she murmured. She bent so that he could suck her nipple again, and it made her want to go faster and harder. She leaned forward and got the angle right and the rhythm right and got everything right and then lay with her husband in their bed and felt like it was the safest place in the world.

On Christmas morning, they were all back to eating unsweetened oatmeal for breakfast, but they felt that the celebration had been worth it. It had snowed some more during the night, and Katie wanted to go see if the lake was frozen, so early in the afternoon, Peggy and Gil took her for a walk. There was a glaze of ice on the lake, but not enough to walk on. They threw snowballs for a while, and Katie wanted to make a snowman, so they headed back toward the cabin. They had just reached the clearing, swinging Katie between them, when Gil suddenly stopped and raised his gun, shoving Peggy behind him. She picked Katie up and held her against her shoulder, her heart pounding.

Two people that she didn’t recognize, a man and a woman, were entering the clearing from the direction of Tony’s cabin. The strangers saw them at the same moment and stopped.

“Hey, hey,” the guy said, “you can put your gun down. We’re friends.”

“Where’s your gun?” Gil asked. No member of the Movement would be in the woods unarmed.

The other man was tall and had wildly curly red hair. He shrugged and smiled. “I don’t like to carry one.” He looked speculatively at Gil, then said, _“C’est toi le marquis?”_ His French was accented but excellent.

 _“On se tutoie déjà?”_ Gil spat.

_“On est tous amis.”_

“Shut the fuck up,” Gil told him, having long ago decided that English was preferable for swearing. He jerked his head toward the cabin. “Peggy, go,” he said.

Clutching Katie to her, Peggy ran behind him and into the cabin.

“Excuse me,” the girl said. She looked very young, and her voice was soft. “Maybe I could …”

She didn’t get a chance to finish because Alex threw open the cabin door and he and Herc dashed out, guns raised. Alex took one look at the strangers, then lowered his gun and lost his temper.

“Jesus mother fucking Christ, TJ!” he yelled. “You are such a fucking moron! What the hell are you doing here?”

The red-haired guy smiled. “Just came for a visit,” he said.

“You fucking idiot,” Alex continued, barely taking time for a breath. “Why the fuck didn’t one of Tony’s guys walk up with you?”

TJ, since apparently that’s who he was, seemed to think this was all very amusing.

“I told him I could find the way.” He looked around the clearing. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

“Fuck you, TJ,” Alex said wearily. He gestured to Herc and Gil. “You guys can put your guns down. This is Tom Jefferson, better known as TJ. He’s a pain in the ass.”

 _“Ça saute aux yeux,”_ Gil muttered, but he lowered his gun. He didn’t think he and TJ were going to be friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited note: I usually try to run the French phrases through Google translate to be sure they're comprehensible for my readers who don't speak French. Most of the time Google gives at least a close enough approximation, but there's a sentence in this chapter, where Gil asks Peggy "Ta bague de mariage te plaît?" which actually means "Do you like your wedding ring?" NOT, as Google insists, "Your wedding ring, please," as if he's asking her to return it! I tried rephrasing the French to a more formal phrasing, but couldn't live with it because it's not what Gil would say. Anyway, if at any time you want a more precise translation that what Google offers, just ask. Also, please let me know if the French gets in your way; I can easily give translations in the notes.  
> I won't be posting the next chapter for at least a week, as I take a few days to see this show that everybody's talking about. I'm wondering if seeing the characters on stage will have any effect on the way I write about them. I'll tell you about it next time.  
> For now, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you as always for the kudos and comments. I love hearing from you!


	20. Together We Can Turn the Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TJ and Alex discuss strategy. Tempers are lost, doors are slammed, tentative resolutions are reached.

“I guess we’d better go inside,” Alex said, and they followed him in.

Angelica and John were putting their guns up. Peggy and Eliza had heard the conversation, and of course Eliza recognized TJ. He seemed to be happy to see her.

“Eliza!” he exclaimed, giving her a hug. “How are you?” He looked around. “And the lovely Angelica.”

He put his arm around her waist and slid his hand down.

“Knock it off, TJ,” Angelica told him, slapping his hand away.

“Jesus, TJ, don’t you have any common sense?” Alex snapped. He was still pissed.

“Eliza, Angelica, you remember Maddie, don’t you?” TJ continued blithely.

“Yes, of course,” Eliza said, remembering how helpful Maddie had been. Anyway, it wasn’t Maddie’s fault that TJ was doing everything he could to wind Alex up. She introduced Maddie to everyone else.

“Madison James,” Maddie said politely, shaking hands quite formally with each of them.

 Tj was grinning broadly. "I see John still has his pretty curls, Herc is looking good, and I was right about the Marquis, wasn’t I? What a shame we never met in New York." He made an elaborate bow. " _Enchanté, Monsieur le Marquis."  
_

“I don’t use the title,” Gil said shortly.

 _“Oh, quel dommage!_ It’s so, you know, French. Now these must be the other two Schuyler sisters, just as beautiful as Angelica and Eliza, but younger.”

“TJ,” Alex interjected sharply. “Are you here for a reason, or just to piss me off?”

“Oh, a very good reason, little Alex, I was just getting acquainted with everyone. You and I have some things to talk about.”

“Let’s do that, then, before somebody punches you in the face.”

“ _Moi?_ ” TJ pretended surprise.

Alex rolled his eyes. “Is this need-to-know, or can anybody sit in?” he asked.

“Well, technically, it’s need-to-know,” TJ replied, “but everybody is going to need to know, so the General has cleared me to brief your entire squad as well as Crazy Tony’s. I talked to them earlier. By the way, Tony told me you hosted a lovely celebration for Christmas.”

“Yeah, that’s nice, but that’s not what you’re here to talk about, is it?”

“Well, not specifically, but really, Alex, I don’t see why you can’t have a little pleasant conversation before we get down to business. Where are your manners?”

“I’m from New York, not Virginia,” Alex reminded him. “We don’t do manners quite the way you guys do.”

“Actually, aren’t you from somewhere else?” TJ asked. “Some little island or other?”

Alex flushed angrily, but before he could say anything, Maddie spoke up. “Eliza,” she said in her soft voice, “do you suppose we could have some tea? My allergies are really bothering me, and my throat is so scratchy.” She coughed a little.

“Sure, I’ll be happy to make tea,” Eliza replied, grateful for any chance to sidetrack Alex and TJ from their longstanding antipathy. “We only have powdered milk and no sugar, though.”

“Oh, that’s not a problem,” Maddie assured her. “Can I help you?” She followed Eliza into the kitchen.

There was a pause in the conversation for a few minutes while Eliza and Maddie made tea for everyone and Peggy got Katie distracted with her blocks, so she could build a house for Little Baby. She decided to build it on the far side of the room so that Little Baby could see the Christmas tree from her window. Peggy left her happily describing the tree to her tiny doll and came back to join the others. They all sat around the table watching TJ with varying degrees of hostility. Eliza and Maddie brought the tea out and everyone at least pretended to want it. Peggy pulled her chair close to Gil’s just in case she had to prevent him from knocking TJ across the room. She knew by the set of his jaw that it wouldn’t take much more from TJ to instigate a serious quarrel. It was enough that Alex and TJ couldn’t be around each other without striking sparks. If Gil got into it as well, there’d be blood on the floor. She was surprised when Maddie spoke again.

“I think we need to remember that we’re all on the same side here,” she said gently. She sniffed and dabbed at her nose with a tissue. She smiled at Alex and TJ. “I know you two don’t always see eye-to-eye, but the General trusts both of you implicitly, and he expects you to be able to work together.”

TJ put his arm around Maddie and kissed her cheek. “You’re right, as usual,” he told her. She sniffed again, looking down shyly.

Angelica rolled her eyes. “So okay,” she said, “if we’re all supposed to be in on this, how about if you actually start giving us some information, TJ?”

“All right, fine,” TJ said. “I won’t try to have any more polite conversation. We’ll get right to the General’s plans for a new offensive.”

Everyone was instantly alert. Everything they’d been doing for the past two years had been resistance. An offensive plan meant two things – first, that there were enough people now in the Movement that an attack was possible, and second, that the General had targets that would make a significant difference to the King government.

“An offensive where?” Alex asked.

“Well, that’s the thing,” TJ responded with a grin that seemed sincere. “It’s going to be a six-point offensive.”

“Six-point?” Angelica gasped. “Are you serious?”

TJ nodded. “Yeah, how about that?” He pulled a thin piece of fabric out of his pocket and spread it on the table.

“Holy shit!” Herc said. “It’s a silk map. They used them back in World War Two.”

The map was about twelve by eighteen inches and showed the eastern seaboard of the country from just north of Boston to just south of Charleston. It was carefully drawn in black ink on very thin, tightly woven white silk. Details were added in colors.

“Why silk?” Peggy asked.

This was Herc’s field of expertise. “Several reasons,” he said. “Silk is lightweight and very durable. It can be rolled or folded to take up very little space. Unlike paper, it doesn’t make any rustling noise when you unfold it. It can be sewn into the inside of a garment without damaging it.”

“And unlike a phone or other digital device,” TJ continued, “you can burn it easily and it can’t be retrieved by some cyber genius.”

“It has to be real silk, not a synthetic,” Herc added. “Synthetic fabrics don’t burn as quickly. Silk burns to ash, and you can blow the ash away in a few seconds.”

“So we’re going to be using silk maps?” Alex asked.

TJ nodded. “Yes. The General’s got half the Peale family working on them undercover. They’ve got to be done by hand because we sure as hell can’t have them professionally printed. By the time we’re ready to go, we hope to have one for everyone, but if not that, at least for all the squad leaders. Oh, and if it turns out that we come up short, you’re strictly forbidden to make paper copies.”

“What about silk copies?” John wanted to know. “If I could get the silk, I could copy the map.”

TJ looked at Alex. “Is he that good?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Alex said. “Who do you think made all our ID’s?”

“Well, then, I don’t see why not. Each unit is going to have different maps, though. This one here is for the entire operation. The General’s calling it Dolphin.”

“Dolphin?” asked Angelica.

“Code names aren’t supposed to reveal anything. It’s a word that can be worked into a conversation if necessary, but is unlikely to come up randomly. The whole operation is going to be on the coast, though, so maybe Dolphin isn’t entirely random.”

“So tell us about Dolphin,” Alex commanded, his eyes intent as he studied the map. “It looks interesting.”

“Okay. You guys know I’ve been working near Charleston, right? I’ve been coordinating with Frank Marion, doing the same kinds of things that you and Crazy Tony do here – cutting off supplies like sugar and fuel, stealing whatever we can, disrupting transportation and shipping. All of that is annoying as hell to King, and we’re really starting to see some response. King promised a million things he can never deliver and then made it a crime to protest his failings. We’re getting a fair number of Haves who are fed up with him, and of course, we’ve always had a lot of allies among the Hopes and the Deplos.”

“Right,” Alex agreed. “Did the General tell you about our contact here in the Customs office?”

“Burr? Yes, he mentioned him.”

“Burr’s girlfriend, who’s a Have, also is very interested in helping,” Alex told him.

“Excellent. We need all the help we can get. Now, we’re looking at a tentative date for Dolphin maybe around the middle of February. It might be later, and that might change from day to day, but the General isn’t going to give us an exact date until just a couple of days before. The details will be need-to-know. Alex and Tony will have some flexibility on that, and they’ll decide who does what job.” TJ took a deep breath and looked up. “We’re going to hit six ports on the same day,” he said.

There was a moment of stunned silence, and then everybody talked at once. Which ports? How? Who would be in charge? TJ and Alex got everybody quieted down, and Peggy began to realize that however much they disliked each other personally, the two of them worked well together. She glanced over at Gil. He no longer looked angry, but, on the contrary, quite interested.

TJ pulled out six smaller silk maps and spread them out on the table: Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Norfolk, Charleston.  
“We want to disable shipping in all of them,” he said, “with minimal loss of life. We’re going to be blowing up cargoes, sinking docked ships, destroying docks, cranes, ferry wharves, whatever else we can. The more debris on the harbor floor, the longer it takes to clear the port. The more time this gives us, the more time the General has to address the people.”

“He’s going to leave headquarters?” Alex asked.

TJ shrugged. “Maybe. He’s really hoping on getting broadcast capacity set up. Maddie’s been working on that.”

Maddie, who had been quiet except for the occasional sniff, nodded. “There aren’t enough citizens with media licenses for TV or radio broadcast to be effective, but almost all Haves and a lot of Hopes have authorized phones, and we all know how many illegal phones there are out there.”

“Yeah, about six thousand of them belong to Alex,” John commented.

Maddie smiled. “We’re hoping to get a live feed going and have the General speak to the people. Of course we’ll have to bounce the signal around, but we’re pretty sure we can do that.”

TJ grinned and jerked his head at Maddie. “Girl’s a fucking genius,” he said proudly.

Peggy looked at Gil again, and this time she caught his eye. He raised his eyebrows and imitated TJ’s head jerk. Peggy had to bite her lip to keep from giggling.

“Alex, you and Crazy Tony will be handling the port of Philadelphia. Your source in the Customs office is going to be critical. You’ll know what’s in the port, and what are the most valuable cargoes to hit.”

Alex frowned. “The General doesn’t want me in New York? I know the area better than I know Philly.”

“No,” TJ said. “Two reasons – first, this Customs guy is going to be a huge help, and you’ve already cultivated the relationship. Second, he’s got a couple of really good guys heading things up in New York. You know Nate Pendleton, right?”

“Sure,” Alex said, “Nate worked with us in New York."

“The guy working with Nate is John Taylor. He was a Have professor at Rutgers when the insurrection started, and he threw everything over to join – lost his job, his tenure, most of his friends and half his family. He kind of reminds me of you.”

“Smart and good-looking?” Alex asked with a grin.

“Talkative and stubborn as hell. And, okay, yeah, smart,” TJ conceded. “He’s been working undercover on the docks for a while and has developed good relationships with a lot of Deplo laborers.”

“Excellent,” Alex nodded. “Who’s in charge in the other ports?”

“Some people you know, some you don’t. Ethan, of course, in Boston, along with Sybil Ludington and Seth Warner. All of them good, lots of experience. Baltimore’s going to be Prue Cummings, Walt Bowie and Ben Contee.”

“I thought Ben went to England right after the insurrection,” Angelica said.

“He did,” TJ told her, “but he came back. Just couldn’t stand to know what was happening here and not do anything about it.”

“Good,” Gil said.

“Do you know Ben?” TJ asked.

Gil shook his head. “No,” he responded, “but I respect a man of principle.”

“Is that why you’re here?” TJ wanted to know.

Gil took a moment to decide if TJ was really interested or if he was baiting him. “I came here to study, and I found friends,” he said evenly. “I found a welcome, and a home, and now I’m married to a citizen of this country. I have many reasons to fight for it.”

“Wait, you’re married?” TJ inquired in surprise.

“Tony didn’t mention it?” Peggy asked.

“No, but we just talked business.” He stopped and looked back and forth from Peggy to Gil. “You two are married? To each other?”

He sounded so astonished that Peggy had to laugh. “Yes,” she said.

“How did you pull that off?”

“It was a small, private ceremony,” Gil responded smoothly, and Peggy didn’t dare look at him.

“In Philly?” TJ asked.

“No,” Gil told him. “We preferred a more romantic rural location.”

“It was really a lovely wedding,” Eliza volunteered, and Peggy stared intently at her shoes.

“Can we get back to Dolphin, please?” Alex requested.

“Sure, sorry,” TJ agreed, with one last suspicious look at Gil and Peggy. “Ned Randolph and I will be handling Norfolk. Oh, and speaking of marriage, Ned and Beth Nicholas finally got married.”

“Good,” John said. “They’ve been dating since, like third grade.”

“You know Ned?” TJ asked.

John nodded. “Our dads are friends, so I kind of grew up with him.”

TJ stared at John for a minute. “Your name’s John Lawrence? Who’s your dad?”

This wasn’t a question John liked to answer. “It’s Laurens with an s, and yes, my father’s Henry Laurens. And my legal name now is John Laurens-Schuyler.”

TJ looked both bewildered and worried. “Wait, did you marry one of the Schuyler sisters, too?” he asked, looking from Eliza to Angelica in confusion.

That at least got a laugh from everybody. “No,” John told him, “I’m not married. But it turns out I’m related to the Schuyler sisters by blood, and so I’d like to use the name.” He smiled at Peggy, and she blew him a kiss. “Also,” John went on, “as I’m sure you realize, my father and I have very different views, just like Ned Randolph and his dad.”

“That’s for sure,” TJ agreed, “and that kind of brings me to the last squad commanders we’re talking about for Dolphin, in Charleston. You’re from Charleston, right?”

John looked impatient. “You know I am. Look, you don’t have to fear offending me by talking about my father. We can’t stand each other. We’ve barely spoken since I was about twelve. I get Laurens family money from a trust fund that my grandfather set up, but my father can’t touch that money. Neither can I right now, but I’ll get access to it eventually.”

TJ looked at Alex. “I didn’t realize that he was Henry Laurens’s son,” he said.

“What’s the big fucking deal?” John asked angrily. “My father’s a fucking Have who stands for everything I despise. I hate him. He hates me. What fucking difference does it make?”

“Listen, TJ,” Alex said, “John took a bullet and nearly died for the Movement a few weeks ago. If you’ve got any sort of idea that he might have divided loyalties, you are completely wrong.”

“I’m not the only one,” John put in. “Ask Ned Randolph. His asshole father left the country and is living the good life in Europe. That’s how much this country meant to him.”

TJ ran his hand over his curly red hair. “I know, I know,” he said. “Just give me a minute to explain. First, the commanders in Charleston are Frank Marion and Pete Horry. Frank’s probably the best squad commander we’ve got – sorry, Alex.”

“No argument from me,” Alex said. “Frank’s operation has done more to occupy the Greaters than anybody else’s.”

“Okay, well, one of Frank’s primary targets has been Henry Laurens and his business.” He looked at John. “Your father ships a hell of a lot of cargo out of Charleston.”

John nodded. “Yeah.”

“Frank’s been sinking Henry Laurens’s ships and burning his warehouses pretty regularly,” TJ went on.

“Good,” John said. “Everything my father manufactures is made by Deplo workers paid minimum wage and no benefits. A lot of them are immigrants, most of them undocumented. They get paid less than minimum because my father threatens to tell the authorities if they complain.” He looked TJ in the eye. “Babies die because of my father’s business. Little kids like Katie go to bed hungry every night. If you think I’m on his side, fuck you.” He turned, grabbed his gun off the rack and slammed out the front door.

“Shit,” TJ said. “I could have handled that better.”

“You think?” Alex asked. “Herc …”

“Got it,” Herc said, already on his way. “He’s probably down at the lake.”

Maddie coughed. “Is there any more tea?” she asked, standing up. She and Eliza went into the kitchen and put on some water to make more tea.

Alex looked around. “Can you guys give us a couple of minutes here?” he asked. Peggy and Gil went to play with Katie, and Angelica shrugged, but went into the kitchen with Eliza and Maddie. Alex leaned across the table toward TJ. “Look,” he said, “I don't know what the big deal is about John and his father, but the General has always known who John is. John may be a little sensitive about his father, but they haven’t spoken in years. They’ve been estranged since long before Washington was elected, let alone Blodman. John went to boarding school when he was sixteen and then on to college, using his trust fund. He hasn’t been back to Charleston since his first year of high school.”

“Does he keep in touch with anybody else in his family?” TJ asked.

Alex shook his head. “His mom died when he was sixteen. That’s when he left home. He’s got two brothers and two sisters, all a lot younger than he is, but he’s not in contact with them.”

“Do you think he might want to contact them in the future?”

“TJ, you’re not really listening to me. First of all, as I keep saying, John is completely estranged from his family. Second, his siblings are kids; I think the oldest is about fifteen. I’m not saying that John will never have anything to do with them, but certainly not now, and not while his father is alive.” Alex was losing what little patience he had. “Do you have some kind of scenario in mind where John endangers Dolphin because he wants to see his little sister? Because if you do, you’re totally wrong.”

“No,” TJ said, “that’s not it at all. Look, I’ve given you the basic outline of Dolphin. The plan is to do as much damage as we can with as little collateral human injury as possible. I wasn’t lying, and this is strictly need-to-know, so your squad doesn’t get this information, clear?”

Alex nodded, frowning. TJ hesitated, tapping his fingers on the table and staring at the wall, as if trying to figure out what to say. “I’m not authorized to tell even you this, Alex,” he finally said, “and Tony knows nothing about it, so it goes no further. I’ll explain to the General and hope that he sees my point of view.”

“Jesus, TJ, get to the point.”

“All right.” TJ looked up and met Alex’s eyes. “While we hope to keep bloodshed to a minimum, there are a few important Haves who may be targeted as part of Dolphin. One of them is Henry Laurens.”

“Fuck,” Alex said.

“All this time I’ve heard John’s name, I thought it was Lawrence, with a c-e, like Joe Lawrence over in Tony’s squad,” TJ said “I swear to you, I had no idea until today that he was Henry Laurens’s son, and the General never mentioned it.”

"Well, he wouldn't, would he?" Alex muttered bitterly. He shoved his chair back from the table and stood up. Gil and Peggy looked at him just as Eliza and Maddie came in from the kitchen carrying mugs of tea. Alex grabbed one and said briefly, “I’m going outside.”

“Coat,” Eliza reminded him.

“Gun,” Angelica said.

Alex slammed down the mug of tea in exasperation, spilling half of it, threw on his coat, picked the tea back up, and took his gun off the rack. He turned around and asked sarcastically, “Okay now?” He didn’t wait for an answer before he went out the door, banging it shut behind him.

Maddie found a cloth and mopped the table where Alex’s tea had splashed. TJ silently put his arms around her and rested his cheek on the top of her head. He had to bend to do that, since he was at least a foot taller than she was. She reached up and stroked his hair and Angelica and Eliza exchanged a look, Eliza’s eyebrow going up.

Peggy picked Katie up and joined her sisters. “Anybody thinking about dinner?” she asked.

Angelica exclaimed, “Oh, God, it’s nearly six o’clock. John usually …”

“Right,” Eliza said, “and if not John, Herc, which leaves us hungry. Let’s get going.”

“It’s dark out,” Peggy said. “And cold.”

“I don’t know if I can handle John and Alex both losing their tempers on the same day,” Angelica muttered.

“Herc is with John,” Gil reassured her, “and Alex will get over it in a few minutes. He always does.”

Angelica nodded and went into the kitchen to help.

TJ was still holding Maddie, and she was just standing still, letting him lean on her. It really was kind of sweet, Peggy thought. TJ finally stood up straight and Maddie smiled at him. He gave her a quick kiss, then turned to Gil. “I’m going to get Alex,” he said.

Gil nodded. “Okay. Do you know where he is?”

“I have an idea,” TJ told him. “Remember, I was in this cabin for a year before Alex got here.”

“You need help?” Gil asked.

TJ shook his head. “Nah, I can handle little Alex,” he said.

Gil didn’t answer. TJ hesitated, then said, “Look, Alex and I are oil and water, and we argue, but I want you to know there’s nobody I respect more. I got off on the wrong foot with you today too. I didn’t intend that. It was just part of my pissing-Alex-off act.” He stuck out his hand.

Gil gave a reluctant smile. “Damn good act,” he said and took TJ’s hand.

“Isn’t it?” TJ agreed with a grin.

“Don’t try to talk to Alex outside,” Gil advised.

“What do you mean?”

“First of all, Alex hates the cold, so he won’t be able to think. Second, you’re the last person who’s going to be able to calm him down. Eliza can do it, or John, usually, but not today.”

“Okay,” TJ agreed. “I’ll drag him in.” He gave Gil a speculative look. “You married a Schuyler sister, huh?”

“Yeah,” Gil said.

“Smart man.”

“Yeah,” Gil said again, and TJ went out the door.

“Are they having a game of hide and seek or what?” Angelica asked in exasperation. “Herc said he thought John would be at the lake. They should have been back by now.”

“Maybe they’re talking,” Eliza said.

“It’s freezing out there,” Angelica reminded her.

“Did you know anything about John’s father?” Peggy asked her sisters.

“Only that they were estranged, until today,” Angelica replied.

“It’s got to be hard, knowing that your own father represents everything you fight against,” Eliza said, stirring the rice on the stove.

Maddie sniffed rather loudly. They had almost forgotten she was there. “Excuse me,” she said hesitantly. “If I could offer some advice?”

“Okay,” Angelica said.

“I just wouldn’t talk to John about his father,” Maddie suggested. “It seemed so painful for him.”

“Yeah, I completely agree,” Angelica told her, “but it was TJ who brought it up.”

“Well, it sort of came up, actually,” Maddie corrected. “TJ was as surprised as anyone.”

“Don’t worry,” Angelica said. “I’ll never mention it.” She turned toward the kitchen and gave her sisters a speaking look, complete with elaborate eye-roll.

“Where’s the can opener?” Eliza asked, hoping to change the subject, and Angelica began to look through one of the kitchen drawers.

The front door opened and John and Herc came in. Herc had his arm around John’s shoulders, and he telegraphed a look as they entered. They all understood the message: pretend we are just coming in from a normal walk. They racked their guns, and John said, “Man, it’s cold as fuck out there.”

“December in the Poconos,” Angelica agreed.

“Damn, Gil, how’d you let the fire get so low?” Herc asked. “You going to bring in some more wood, or are you taking the night off?”

Gil sketched a salute and said, “ _À ton service, mon chef._ ” He went out the side door and returned promptly with plenty of wood. Herc loaded the wood stove, and John was in the kitchen, directing Eliza. “You should have chopped up the tomatoes more,” he told her helpfully.

TJ and Alex came back a few minutes later, and Alex racked his gun and looked around, his eyes taking in everyone.

“Hey, Eliza,” Alex said, “I have to tell you something.”

Eliza handed the wooden spoon to John and approached Alex. “What?” she asked, a little worried. Alex looked all right, but …

“I broke the tea mug,” Alex said sadly.

Eliza put her arms around him.

“It’s okay,” she said, stroking his hair.

“It was the nice one with the yellow flowers,” Alex continued.

“Really, sweetie, it’s fine. We have other mugs.”

“Actually, I threw it,” Alex went on, determined to tell the whole story. “At TJ.”

Eliza looked at TJ, who appeared unscathed.

“I missed,” Alex explained, “and there was this big rock.”

Eliza took his face in her hands. “It’s all right. Everything’s all right.”

“I told him,” TJ began, but Eliza shook her head at him.

Alex leaned very close and murmured into her ear. “I couldn’t find John. I couldn’t find him in the woods, and I was scared.”

Eliza kissed him and said loudly enough for everyone to hear, “You’re freezing. Come over by the stove and get warm. John’s in the kitchen trying to improve the rice and beans I made.”

“I heard that,” John yelled. “I’m a better cook than you.”

“I’m not arguing,” Eliza said.

“He's right, you know,” Alex told Eliza.

“Mm-hmm,” she agreed.

“Do you think I could have some tea?” Alex asked.

“Yes,” Eliza told him, “but you’re going to have to drink it from the Elmo mug.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied about Henry Laurens, who was, in fact, a patriot, but not about John Randolph, who beat it to England and safety.  
> As you know, I spent the past week in NYC. It was both an exhilarating and a difficult week. Yes, I saw the show, and also yes, I visited Trinity Church. The Hamilton I met in those places bears little resemblance to my neurotic (however lovable) little Alex, but I remind myself that fanfic is fiction, and I'm happy to leave the serious stuff to Ron Chernow.  
> I would also like to say that I doubt if President Washington himself could have been any more inspiring than the magnificent Chris Jackson in that role. I will remember all my life his rendition of "One Last Time," reassuring us of "good laws under a free government," while hundreds of us wept with him. We are, indeed, lucky to be alive right now, when there is such grace and talent on the earth.  
> Thank you all for reading, thanks always for kudos and comments. Love to all of you.


	21. We Laugh and We Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The squad needs a ruling on a legal dispute. Maddie is annoying. Alex has things to discuss with TJ.

TJ had planned to leave for Virginia on the twenty-sixth, but Alex told him on Christmas night that there was unfinished business that needed to be taken care of. He and Maddie went back to Tony’s cabin to sleep, much to everybody’s relief.

“I don’t think I could stand helpful little Maddie early in the morning,” Angelica said.

Peggy agreed. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was about Maddie that she found annoying, but there was definitely something. She said as much later that night, after Katie was asleep, and they were all sitting around. Alex was on the couch with John, wrapped up in all the blankets he could commandeer, still trying to get warm after his walk in the woods. Eliza, of course, had the comfy chair, and the rest of them were on the floor. Gil had his back to the couch so he could lean on it, and Peggy had her head in his lap. Herc and Angelica were fighting over the one blanket Herc had managed to wrest from Alex.

“Why is she so irritating?” Peggy asked. “I mean, she’s pleasant enough, she’s smart, she’s helpful. What is it?”

“She has no sense of humor,” Gil submitted.

“You know, you’re right,” Eliza said. “She smiles a lot, but if anybody says something funny, she doesn’t react.”

“Well, that would explain why she’s with TJ,” Angelica agreed. “He thinks he’s funny, but you notice his jokes are always about other people, never himself.”

“Passive-aggressive,” John said, shifting position.

“Don’t take the blanket!” Alex admonished.

“Jeez, Alex, I’m not taking the blanket,” John told him, tucking stray ends around him. “Aren’t you roasted in there by now?”

“My toes are still cold,” Alex responded with dignity.

“TJ’s coming back tomorrow, right?” Angelica asked, looking at Alex.

Alex nodded. “We have to talk about some more stuff.”

“Is this stuff that only you and TJ need to know?” Herc asked.

“I think so,” Alex said. “That’s one of the things we have to talk about.”

“What do we need to do between now and February to get ready for Dolphin?” Gil asked.

Alex sat up straighter, and a blanket fell away from his shoulder. He fumbled for a minute to readjust it before he answered. “I think it’s mostly going to be working on intelligence and reconnaissance. We’ll do a couple of small trial runs using information that we get from Burr and maybe Desi to be sure they’re reliable. We’ll do some close observation of the port. I was thinking maybe John could be an artist painting harbor scenes?” He turned to John as he said it.

“Fuck, yeah!” John said, sitting up straight and causing another blanket readjustment. “I’d be good at that! I’ve got my Have ID; I can be some rich guy practicing my hobby.”

Peggy leaned closer to Gil. She didn’t want John back out and in danger. Gil smiled at her and almost imperceptibly shook his head. He didn’t want her to tell John she was scared for him.

“Maybe I should have a French accent,” John went on, wiggling his eyebrows at Gil. “Wee, wee, monsoor!”

“Oh, God,” Gil said, dropping his head into his hands. “Please, no!”

“What? You don’t like my accent?”

_“Tu n’as pas d’accent. C’est ça le problème.”_

“You said ‘problem,’ right? I understood that,” John said proudly.

“Yo, John,” Alex broke in, “I didn’t say you were going undercover as Renoir or something. You’re just going to do a few sketches.”

“Well, damn, I thought maybe I’d have a little fun with it.”

“Fine,” Alex agreed, “but don’t try the French accent.”

 _“Pour l’amour de Dieu,”_ Gil added.

“Whatever,” John said, suddenly pulling all the blankets of Alex, grabbing as many as he could and throwing the rest on the floor. They landed on Gil and Peggy, who scrambled to get out of the way, as John leaped over them, Alex in pursuit.

“Hide the blankets!” John yelled over his shoulder at Herc as he raced into the bunk room and shut the door.

Alex tried to open the door, but John had thrown himself against it.

Herc raised an eyebrow at Gil. “Teams?”

Gil nodded. “Alex.”

“John, of course,” Herc told him, and they both ran to help.

“I’m on your team, Alex,” Gil declared, helping him push the door. Their combined weight moved it about a foot, and then Herc shoved past them to get into the room with John. Then it was hopeless.

Alex threw up his hands. “We quit!” he declared.

John stuck his head out. “Ha! I get all the blankets.”

“Wait, that was not the declared goal,” Alex protested.

“Eliza!” John yelled. “Legal decision needed.”

“They’re twelve,” Angelica said to nobody in particular. “They carry guns, they go on missions, they’re planning a military offensive, but emotionally, they’re all twelve years old.”

“Present your cases,” Eliza told John, and they all trooped back to sit in front of the comfy chair.

“They surrendered, so we get the blankets,” John announced, wrapping himself in the three he had managed to hold onto. “I rest my case.”

Alex knew he could do better than that. “Your Honor,” he began, “at no time was blanket custody discussed before or during the dispute. The dispute was, in fact, a personal one.”

“Blanket custody?” Angelica whispered to Peggy, and they both cracked up.

“Did the dispute relate to blankets in any way?” Eliza asked quite seriously.

“No, Your Honor,” Alex replied.

“You liar!” Herc yelled. “I mean, I object!”

“On what grounds?” asked the judge, who was biting her lip to keep from laughing.

“On what grounds?” Herc asked John.

“Fuck, I don’t know,” John said. “I’m an artist. Oh, yeah, because they made fun of my French accent.”

“Irrelevant!” Alex yelled.

“On the grounds that the defendant, or maybe the plaintiff, anyway, the other guy, is a liar,” Herc declared.

“Overruled,” Eliza said.

“Ha!” Alex sneered.

“Order!” ruled the judge, banging her fist on the arm of her soft upholstered chair and making no noise at all. “Bailiff!” she called, pointing at Angelica. “Please take custody of the blankets.”

Angelica, laughing, gathered up all the blankets that were scattered from the couch to the bunk room. She had to fight John to get the three he had, and then Gil tried to grab them as she went by.

“Plaintiffs and defendants are ordered to surrender all blankets to the bailiff,” Eliza commanded. “Please inventory the blankets.”

Angelica enlisted Peggy’s help, and they declared a total of nine blankets: four gray, two blue, one brown plaid, one beige with green stripes and one with Minnie Mouse.

Peggy turned on Alex. “You took Katie’s Minnie Mouse blanket?” she asked. “You are scum.”

“Order!” Eliza declared again. “Custody of the Minnie Mouse blanket is hereby awarded to Katie Schuyler.”

“Thank you,” Peggy said, but not without giving Gil a look that promised revenge for his being on Alex’s team.

“Each male member of the household is awarded one gray blanket, and if you want to keep it, you’d better put your name on it. Angelica Schuyler gets a blue blanket, Peggy Schuyler – sorry, Motier – gets the brown plaid blanket, and I get the beige with green stripes. The other blue blanket will be rotated on a daily basis. Schedule to be posted tomorrow. Tonight Angelica gets it because I love her.”

Angelica blew her a kiss.

“Objection!” all four guys yelled.

Eliza stood up and took the beige blanket with green stripes and wrapped it around herself. “Good night, everybody,” she said, and went off to bed.

“Damn, I’m never appealing to that judge again,” John complained.

Gil smiled at Peggy. “We get two blankets on our bed,” he said.

“The Minnie Mouse blanket? Really?” Peggy asked.

“Alex did it,” Gil told her. “I had no knowledge of it.”

“I’m going to bed with my two nice cozy blankets,” Angelica announced happily and headed for the bunk room.

“Yeah, well, I’m going to bed with my one blanket,” Herc told her. “Girl, you better sleep with one eye open.”

Alex was sitting on the floor, clutching his gray blanket and looking forlorn. “I’m cold,” he said.

John put his arm around him. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s open up the couch. We can share the blankets and cuddle.”

Gil put out his hand to Peggy. “ _On va dormir, chérie?”_

She took his hand. Two blankets and the best-looking husband in the world. Things could be worse.

They spread the two blankets on their bed and put the Minnie Mouse blanket at the foot of Katie’s crib. Katie was snuggled in her blanket sleeper and tucked under another crib-size blanket. Everybody always took care of Katie.

They stood there, Gil’s arm around Peggy and her head on his shoulder, looking at their little girl.

“I can’t believe she slept through that racket,” Peggy said. “I’m glad she’s always been a sound sleeper.”

“Mm, that has been … convenient,” Gil agreed. “Come to bed. We’ll be nice and warm.”

She took off her jeans and sweat shirt and started to reach for her sleep tee shirt, but Gil took her hand. “Why bother?” he asked. “It’s warm here.” His clothes were already on the floor.

She slid into bed beside him, and he wrapped himself around her.

“You’re always warm,” she murmured, “even when it’s cold out.”

“That’s because I have the hottest wife …”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes.” He kissed her, and his warm hands were moving over her. She melted into him, loving the way she felt with him, the way he made her feel.

“I still can’t believe that I get to sleep with you every night,” he said. “Every night of my life, I get to hold the most beautiful girl in the world.” He kissed her neck, and then continued a line of soft kisses down to her breast. _“La plus belle du monde. Ma belle, ma femme, mon amour, ma chérie.”_

And all the time he was kissing her, his hands were on her, stroking, rubbing, circling, until she was lifting her hips and murmuring, “Please.”

“I love when you say please, _chérie_. I love that you want me.”

“Please.” He made her wait just a moment longer, although it was hard. That first second of sliding into her warm wet silkiness was a pleasure that always made him gasp.

 _“S’il te plait,”_ she whispered.

_“Ah, chérie, tu me ravis.”_

Afterward, she lay with her back to his chest, feeling him breathe, as she had that first night. He played with her hair.

“You know what TJ said to me today?” he asked.

“What?”

“He said I was smart for marrying a Schuyler sister.”

“You already knew that, though.”

“Mm-hm.” He kissed the back of her neck, and she fell asleep in his arms.

TJ, no surprise, showed up way too early the next morning. Herc had just got the coffee made. Katie, who had recently figured out how to get out of her crib, was underfoot, and wanted to help him measure the oatmeal. Angelica was up and was sitting at the table, but she was not a morning person and didn’t want to talk to anybody yet. She was still wearing the sweats she slept in, and her hair was a mess. John and Alex were both half asleep on the sofa bed, having an incoherent, cranky discussion about what “sharing” a blanket actually meant. Everybody else was still in bed. The knock at the door came as a surprise. Angelica checked to see who it was, then opened the door, and TJ and Maddie came in.

Angelica went back to her chair and sat down. “TJ, do you know what time it is? I don’t talk till I’ve had coffee, so leave me alone.”

“I know it’s early, but we have to get back, and I need to talk to Alex.”

Alex sat up and glared at TJ. “Can’t talk yet,” he mumbled, and headed for the bathroom. They heard the shower go on. John wrapped himself up in both blankets and snuggled back into his pillow.

“Yo, John,” Herc said, “we need to fold the couch up. Rise and shine.”

There was no response from John. Herc put a mug of coffee in front of Angelica, and she sipped it gratefully.

“You deal with him,” Herc said.

Angelica, fortified by coffee, went over to the sofa bed and yanked both blankets off.

“Nooo!” John howled, trying to grab them back.

“Get up,” Angelica told him mercilessly. “We have company.”

John squinted over at TJ and Maddie. “Man, what time is it?” he asked.

“It’s nearly seven,” TJ told him, “and, like I said, we have to leave soon. Sorry, but we want to get an early start.”

“Whatever,” John said, and went to the bunk room to get dressed. Eliza came out as he was going in, fully dressed and with her hair neatly clipped back.

“I hate you,” Angelica said to her, shoving her own tangled curls off her face.

“No you don’t,” her sister told her. She looked around. “Hi, TJ. Hi, Maddie. Want some coffee?’

TJ accepted, but Maddie, they found, drank only tea. Herc courteously made her a cup, but served it in the ugly mug with the cow on it. Maddie would be oblivious to the insult, but it made Herc feel better.

“What time do you usually get up?” TJ asked, attempting to make conversation.

“Around now, but we were up late last night,” Eliza told him. She didn’t even try to explain the blanket custody trial. TJ wouldn’t get it anyway.

“I’m going to go take a walk,” TJ said. “Tell Alex I’ll be back soon.”

TJ left, and about five minutes later Alex came out of the bathroom, wide awake, wrapped in a towel. Angelica and Eliza watched him with interest, but Maddie looked away, apparently embarrassed. Alex went into the bunk room to get dressed just as Gil, wearing only boxers, came out of the other bedroom. He looked around sleepily, then opened the bedroom door and called to Peggy, “Wear clothes, _chérie._ We have company.”

Gil in his underwear was always worth looking at, and as he passed the table on the way to get a cup of coffee, he shook his head at Eliza and Angelica’s appreciative stares. “ _Soyez gentilles, mes soeurs,”_ he told them, laughing.

Maddie kept staring at the floor.

“You’re all very, um, casual,” she said softly to Eliza.

“We’ve lived together for more than two years,” Eliza told her. “And remember, Peggy and Angelica are my sisters, and Gil’s married to Peggy. Privacy’s not really a priority.”

Maddie snuck a sidelong look at Gil, gulping down the last of his coffee. He saw it and raised his eyebrows at her, not amused. She blushed furiously, and he put down his mug and went to take a shower. Peggy was finally up, not as cranky as Angelica, but not as cheerful as Eliza. She got her coffee and sat down at the table.

“Your husband’s hot,” Angelica remarked, just because she felt like starting something.

“No shit,” Peggy responded calmly, sipping coffee. “Mine, though.”

Maddie got up quickly. “I think I’d like some more tea,” she said, sniffing, and went into the kitchen. Peggy looked after her, puzzled.

“She was eyeing Gil,” Eliza explained.

“Ah,” Peggy said, enlightened. “He wouldn’t like that.”

“Eliza and I look at him all the time,” Angelica said.

Peggy took another sip of coffee. “That’s different. You’re family. We all know where we stand. It’s not, um, intrusive.” She glanced toward the kitchen. “Poor Maddie. Everything embarrasses her.”

“What do you think is really up with her and TJ?” Eliza asked. “I mean, they seem like a couple.”

“I’m sure they are,” Angelica said, “but honestly, TJ’s no fun.”

Both her sisters looked at her with interest. She shrugged and looked quickly over her shoulder to see where Maddie was. She was talking to Herc in the kitchen. Angelica leaned in. “I mean, he’s, you know, competent. But definitely no fun. No imagination at all.”

Peggy’s thoughts went unbidden to her husband and to a few very imaginative moments they had shared. She felt herself blushing hotly and tried to put her head down, but both her sisters were laughing.

“Oh, Peggy,” Eliza said, “that blush will always give you away.”

“And what are the Schuyler sisters up to now?” Alex asked, fully dressed and with his hair tied back.

He got no answer to his question, but Angelica told him TJ would be back in a few minutes.

“That’s TJ for you,” Alex complained, “comes over at the crack of dawn to wake everybody up, then takes off before we can talk. I’m getting breakfast.”

Herc was dishing up the oatmeal and realized somebody was missing. “Did John go back to sleep?” he asked.

“I’ll get him,” Eliza volunteered and more or less dragged John out to the table.

“Maybe we should go back to sleeping in shifts,” Alex suggested. They had done that for quite a while at first and still did it during the summer when there were more likely to be strangers in the area, but they all hated it.

“No,” John said. “I’ll get up when I’m supposed to, I promise.”

Maddie came out of the kitchen with Herc, who was carrying Katie. He handed her off to Gil.

“I maka oapmeal,” she announced proudly.

 _“Bravo, ma petite,_ ” Gil told her.

TJ came back before they had finished breakfast, and Alex let it be known that they needed to talk privately.

“Take the bunk room,” Eliza suggested. “We can clean up out here while you’re talking. Do you need anything?”

“Hang on,” Herc said, “I need to get the blankets out of there. I’m going to embroider everybody’s names on their blankets so there won’t be any more fighting.”

“Right,” Alex agreed. “Everybody, no stealing blankets while Herc is working on them.”

Gil decided to make Katie a blanket fort, letting Herc have one at a time to work on, and they all got involved in hanging the blankets over chairs and making different rooms. Eliza let Herc use the comfy chair, and Maddie sat quietly at the table, reading something she must have brought with her.

Alex shut the door of the bunk room, and he and TJ sat down on Eliza’s bunk. Alex got straight to the point.

“Last night I did some thinking about this thing with John’s father,” he said. “Honestly, TJ, I don’t think John would have more than a passing regret at his father’s death. The thing is, though, his mother died years ago, and John would feel he’s responsible for his sisters and brothers. He’d feel like he had to go home and take care of them.”

TJ ran his hand over his hair. “I know that would suck for you, Alex,” he said, “but you know, he’s got to do what he’s got to do.”

“TJ, don’t be an idiot. Think about this. John Laurens has been missing for two years, then suddenly reappears after the Movement’s first major offensive so he can take care of his orphaned siblings. You think nobody’s going to figure it out? Especially in Henry Laurens’s circle? Jesus, John would be dead in forty-eight hours – unless they decided to keep him alive to torture him for information.”

“Ah, fuck, I wasn’t even thinking,” TJ admitted. “I mean, I only found out yesterday that John was Henry Laurens’s son, and I didn’t know about the younger kids … wait, how many are there?”

“Four,” Alex told him. “The oldest is maybe fourteen or fifteen; the youngest is only about five.”

“You can’t come up with a cover story that would explain where John had been for two years?” TJ asked. “I mean, you’re good at that stuff.”

“Yeah, I am,” Alex agreed impatiently, “but even I can’t create a foolproof two-year cover that’s going to stand up to the scrutiny of King’s investigators.”

TJ looked directly at him. “The General wants Henry Laurens taken out.”

“Fine, but I’m not going to sacrifice John’s life to that goal. Period.”

TJ got up and paced back and forth a few times. “So what are you saying? You’re going to disobey a direct order?”

“Nobody’s going to order me to kill Henry Laurens,” Alex told him. “I won’t have to disobey an order. Let’s say Pete Horry takes him out. Fine, deed done. The problem is what we do after the fact. What we do once Henry Laurens is dead.”

“You want to find some way to prevent John from going to Charleston?”

“God, TJ, how are you so dense? Pay attention. John will only go to Charleston to take care of his siblings. If they’re not there, he doesn’t go.”

TJ frowned. “Sorry, I’m not following.”

Alex got tired sometimes of waiting for other people to catch up with his thinking. “Let me try to explain this in words of one syllable,” he said sarcastically. “When the plan to get rid of Henry Laurens is made, it has to include what to do with the kids. The General probably doesn’t even know about them, but he’s going to have to be told. Then he hands it off to Frank Marion and Pete Horry. Honestly, there’s nobody I’d rather have in charge of this than Frank. He’s the best. Frank and Pete work out the strategy to get the kids safely out before, during, or after the attack on their father. There’s got to be a safe house somewhere nearby. I know we’ve got them. I don’t know where they are, but I know they exist.”

TJ nodded, thinking it over. “What if the General says we don’t have the time or resources or personnel to deal with four young kids in the middle of the offensive?”

“He won’t,” Alex said. “He’s a good man. We all want minimal bloodshed in Dolphin. The General won’t want to lose someone like John, who’s been fighting since the beginning. And he sure won’t want to risk losing the kids.”

TJ nodded again. “What are you going to do?” he asked.

“I have to take it to the General myself,” Alex said. “I think you need to go with me. After all, you’re the one who told me about the plan to target Henry Laurens.”

TJ laughed bitterly. “You’ve got me between a rock and a hard place, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, and I’m sorry for that. I’m not trying to fuck things up for you, TJ, but I’m doing this.”

“Okay. So, tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll take Maddie back to Tony’s cabin,” TJ said. “I think the Schuyler sisters are making her nervous.”

“No doubt,” Alex agreed with a laugh.

“And I’ll get word to Ned that we’re delayed. As far as Ned and everybody else, it’s got to be radio silence on this.”

Alex nodded. “Agreed.”

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do if the General refuses to change the plan?”

That was a stupid question. Alex always thought of every possible outcome before he made a decision.

“Of course,” Alex said.

“What?”

“John and I will go to Charleston ourselves and get the kids out before Dolphin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Laurens did have four younger siblings -- more actually, but it was the 18th century, and only five of the thirteen Laurens children lived past early childhood. Their ages and names (which you'll hear later) are approximately correct.  
> Military strategy: what is an acceptable sacrifice to achieve a goal?  
> How much damage will Dolphin do?  
> Who/what do you want to hear more about? Thanks for reading. See you soon.


	22. Fan This Spark Into a Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex has news from somewhere. Meeting with Burr and Desi. Decisions made now impact the future.

It was always weird with Alex gone. If he was out on a mission, at least some of the squad would be with him, and the rest might have a pretty good idea of where he was, but this time, he and TJ had just left together in the Acura, saying that he’d probably be gone for a couple of days but it might be more. He refused to give them any more information because whatever it was, it was need-to-know.

TJ had told Maddie to stay at Tony’s cabin while they were gone, but she had balked at that and was making her way to Norfolk by a series of bus trips.

“I don’t think she liked us much,” Liz Burgin told Herc when she came up to see if Alex’s squad had any more information than Tony’s. They didn’t, but she stayed for a while to hang out.

“She wasn’t fond of us either,” Herc said. “I think Angelica got on her nerves.”

“Oh, right, blame me,” Angelica retorted, overhearing, as Herc had intended. “I told you guys she was annoying.”

That was pretty much the consensus. Everyone recognized that both TJ and Maddie were important members of the Movement, but that didn’t mean they all had to be best friends.

“I wonder where Alex went,” John said for about the fifteenth time as they were eating dinner the day after Alex left.

Herc rolled his eyes. “We don’t know, John,” he said. “We will probably never know. There’s no point in talking about it.”

“I know, but, I mean, what do you think it’s about? All this ‘need-to-know shit?”

“You know why they call it that, right?” Angelica asked, her patience wearing thin. “Because we don’t actually need to know?”

John poked his fork at his rice. “It wouldn’t kill him to give us a little information,” he muttered.

“On the contrary, it might do exactly that,” Gil said bluntly. “If the Greaters break down that door tonight, we die, but Alex doesn’t, because we can’t tell them where he is. Stop being a crybaby.”

They all sat in silence, shocked. Gil wasn’t usually the one to slap somebody down verbally like that. John flushed angrily, but kept silent. Peggy put her hand on Gil’s arm, but he didn’t move.

It was a minute before Angelica said, “You sound like Alex.”

“Maybe somebody needs to,” Herc put in quietly.

Gil shook his head as if waking himself up. “John, I’m sorry …”

John cut him off. “No, you’re right. And Angelica’s right too; that’s exactly what Alex would have said.”

Eliza leaned over and put her arm around John. “We’re all on edge, not knowing anything.”

“You know, a lot of the time, Alex is crazy, so we forget there’s a reason he’s the one in charge,” Angelica said.

“He’s not like, bad, crazy, though,” Peggy added. “He’s just weird crazy.”

“You mean because he functions best on twelve cups of coffee a day?” Angelica asked.

“No, because he’s always freezing cold unless it’s at least eighty degrees,” Peggy smiled.

“Or because he never, ever shuts up,” Herc offered.

“Because he craves sugar like an addict craves drugs,” Eliza said.

The bad moment passed, and Peggy felt Gil begin to relax. “Listen, John, everybody,” he said, “I shouldn’t have said what I did. At least, not in that way.”

Angelica looked at him seriously. “It needed to be said, Gil.”

Gil looked at John. “We okay?”

“Fuck, yeah,” John told him. “Takes more than that to piss me off.”

“Shows us how much we really need Alex,” Herc said. “He’s gone for a couple of days, and we can’t stay focused.”

“You’re right,” Angelica said, “but please, please, everybody promise not to mention it to Alex when he gets back. If we tell him we can’t manage without him, he will be completely obnoxious for weeks.”

“Well, that’s true,” Herc agreed. “Promise I won’t say a word.”

They all agreed, but in the morning, Eliza had dark circles under her eyes, and John couldn’t stop pacing. It was so cloudy outside that it seemed like dusk by two o’clock in the afternoon, and the temperature had dropped into the low twenties. Not even Herc wanted to go for a walk. Everybody was drinking tea so they could save the coffee for Alex, and Angelica finally got out the Scrabble game and practically forced them to play.

“We’ve got to do something to keep busy,” she told them. They divided into three teams: Peggy and Gil (and Katie, who sat on Peggy’s lap and checked her letters for a K), Angelica and Eliza, and John and Herc. Gil wanted to use French words, but Angelica vetoed that since no one knew enough to challenge if he cheated. Then Herc suggested that Gil could use French if John could use Spanish, but the Schuyler sisters overruled the whole foreign words idea.

They were all having trouble coming up with anything but the simplest words.

“They used to call it ‘cabin fever’,” Eliza said, rearranging the letter tiles on her rack for the tenth time.

“What do you mean?” Gil asked.

“You know, back in the day, when people couldn’t get out of their cabins out on the prairie or in the woods, all snowed in, they would lose their minds,” Eliza explained.

“Oh, that’s helpful!” Angelica commented.

“I think today we’d probably say that people had anxiety attacks,” Peggy suggested.

“Well, it’s a good thing that’s not happening here,” Herc said, adding an _o_ to the _g_ in _sing_ to make _go_. “We get three points for that.” He pulled another tile out of the bag and looked at it.

“Anybody know a word with six vowels and a _j_?” he asked in disgust.

“Our turn,” Angelica said, and added _ular_ to _sing_. “And that’s Double Word, so eighteen points.”

Gil showed Peggy his letters. “Look, I have a perfectly good word there,” he said, “and I’m not allowed to use it. It would be seven points.”

“It’s not English,” Peggy told him.

“It’s almost the same in English,” Gil said.

“Yeah, but it’s not. And I don’t even know that word in French.”

“You don’t know _voûte_?” he asked.

“No, what is it?”

“You know, one of those ceilings, like in a cathedral.” He waved his hand overhead to illustrate.

“Um, arch?” Peggy guessed.

“ _Non_ , it’s something almost the same.”

“Do you mean _vault_ , like a vaulted ceiling?” Eliza asked.

“ _Oui, ça y est!"_ Gil was pleased that somebody had figured it out.

“Well, that’s great, _chéri_ ,” Peggy said, “and now I can talk about cathedral ceilings in French, if that should ever come up, but it’s still our turn, and we’re playing in English.” She thought for a minute, then took the _v, o_ , and _t_ , and arranged them so that they spelled _volt_ with the _l_ in _singular_. “Six, double word, twelve points.” Katie applauded.

“We’re getting killed, Herc,” John said.

Herc nodded gloomily. “We’ve still got six vowels and a _j_.”

There was a noise outside and they all looked up at once.

The door was locked, of course, but John got there first and opened it for Alex. He threw his arms around him and held him tight for a minute, then pulled back and said, “You were gone too long.”

Alex punched him lightly in the arm, then turned around and said, “Is there any coffee? I’m fucking freezing.”

The Scrabble game never got finished, although Angelica did remind them later that she and Eliza had been ahead. Alex got his coffee and a couple of blankets. Herc had finished embroidering the names on all of them and had added little embroidered icons as well. John’s had a turtle, Gil’s a fleur-de-lis, and Alex chuckled when he saw that his had a phone. He was awarded the extra blue blanket as well. It was supposed to be Eliza’s turn, but she offered it to Alex, and he accepted happily. He sat on the couch, Eliza beside him. Angelica had grabbed the comfy chair before anyone else realized it was going to be available.

“So can you tell us anything about where you were?” John asked.

“Yeah,” Alex said, wrapping the blankets tighter, “it was colder than it is here.”

“So this mission was to the Arctic Circle?” Angelica asked.

“Sure, you know those polar bears all support King,” Alex agreed.

“Not going to tell us a thing, are you?”

“Nope. Well, not about where I was or who I was with or why, but I am going to tell you that we need to set up a meeting with Burr and Desi ASAP. We have some plans to make.”

“That sounds interesting,” Eliza said.

“Good, because you’re going with me, my dear Sandra.”

“We’re going to keep using our cover names with Burr and Desi?”

Alex nodded. “For the foreseeable future, and probably forever. There’s no reason to reveal our real names and every reason not to. Right now, Schuyler is a name too well known to be safe.”

“Really?” Peggy asked. “What do you mean?”

Alex’s face softened. “People talk about your parents as heroes,” he said. “They’ve become, for want of a better word, martyrs to a free government. They’ll never be forgotten.”

Peggy turned her face to Gil’s shoulder. She was crying, but she was fiercely proud that her parents were remembered. She looked up and saw the same emotion on her sisters’ faces.

“And the more King tries to eradicate the names of those who’ve died for the Movement, the more they are remembered,” Alex went on. “Somebody painted a mural of Will Hays, Molly’s husband, on a building in Philadelphia. The Greaters painted over it the next day, but the first night it wasn’t guarded, it was repainted. Right now that wall is blank again, but whoever the artist is, they’ll keep repainting Will’s face. That’s the kind of thing that raises people’s spirits.”

“You think things really are changing?” Angelica asked, brushing away her tears.

“I do. I can’t tell you where I was, but I can tell you that the news I heard there is hopeful. Don’t get me wrong – there’s still a lot of work to do, but new recruits are coming in, and our prospects get better every day.”

Gil kissed Peggy. “Maybe we’ll have to think about looking for that big house so we can get started on the six kids,” he said with a grin.

“Didn’t you say five or six?” Peggy asked.

“I think six. Three boys, three girls.”

Peggy put her arms around him. “Well, if anybody can arrange that, it would be you.”

“Don’t make the down payment yet,” Alex cautioned. “There’s still work to be done.”

He got word off to Burr through the complicated series of phone connections he always used, and a week later, he and Eliza went into Philadelphia to Jimmy Prevost’s house, where Desi and Burr were waiting for them. Desi’s hair was braided into a complicated updo, with a fine gold chain wound into the braids. She wore the bangle bracelets again with black leggings and a loose abstract print tunic. Eliza looked at her thoughtfully, and realized within a few minutes that Desi was pregnant.

Burr, looking a little more relaxed than last time, shook hands with Alex. Desi served coffee again, this time with small thin vanilla cookies. They got two cookies each, and Eliza was afraid that Alex might get completely sidetracked. He was so occupied with his six-spoonfuls-of-sugar coffee and cookies that Eliza thought she should make conversation.

“Thank you for this,” she said, smiling. “We don’t get cookies very often.”

“It’s helpful to know people on King’s staff,” Desi told her drily. “All those things that are in short supply for most people are surprisingly available for King’s friends.”

“You know,” Alex said, picking a crumb off the front of his shirt and popping it into his mouth, “I might be persuaded to work for King if I could get cookies every day.” He saw their faces and added, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

“He is,” Eliza confirmed. “He may talk as if he’d sell his soul for a pound of sugar, but I’ve seen him go without food for three days.”

Alex shrugged. “We do what we have to do,” he said.

“So, James, what can I do to help?” Burr asked.

“All right, as I told you, Sandra and I work with some people in the Movement. One of the things we try to do is disrupt transportation. That can be done randomly, but another thing that we try to do is locate shipments of confiscated property.”

Desi frowned. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“Are you aware that when anyone is arrested on suspicion of sedition, their property is confiscated by the government?” Eliza asked her gently.

“What?”

Alex was going to have to be brutally honest. “Have you folks heard of the Schuyler family?” he asked, and Eliza stared into her coffee, her face blank.

“I’ve heard the name,” Burr said. “I think everyone has. The stories are contradictory, to say the least.”

“Here’s the true story,” Alex declared. “The Schuylers were arrested on suspicion of sedition more than two years ago. They had four daughters, two in college, one in high school, and one not quite a year old.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Eliza saw Desi’s hand move protectively to her stomach.

“What happened then?” Burr asked.

“Their house in Albany was given to some of King’s friends. All of their personal belongings – furniture, paintings, jewelry, clothes, pots, pans, and the baby’s toys – were either included with the house or sold, with the money going to King’s cronies. The Schuylers were killed.”

“And their daughters?” Desi asked, her voice not quite steady.

Alex shrugged. “I hope they’re safe,” he said.

“The baby? Do you know anything about the baby?” Desi almost pleaded.

Alex hesitated for a minute. Eliza knew that he was using her family’s story as a way to manipulate Burr and Desi, and in that moment she hated him for it. With the deeper understanding that loving Alex always required, though, she also knew that the only way to be sure Burr and Desi were committed to the Movement was to give them a compelling reason. Her parents would be okay with this, she reminded herself. She looked up at Desi, and realized that they both were in tears. She reached out, and Desi grabbed her hand.

“Her teenage sister got her out,” Alex said. “That was the last report that was made.”

“She’d be three years old now,” Desi said, “and wouldn’t even remember her mom and dad.”

“If she’s even still alive,” Burr added somberly.

“Aaron, don’t!” Desi implored. She was crying openly. Burr got her some tissues.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to fall apart, and part of it is pregnancy hormones.” She wiped her eyes. “We hear about how dangerous seditionists are and how we need to be protected from them. Nobody talks about their babies. And what about the older girls? They didn’t do anything wrong.”

“The Domestic Conspiracy Act assumes that any family member over the age of twelve would be aware of seditious activity in the household,” Alex said drily.

“Twelve?” Burr repeated, shocked. “Jesus!”

“This is why we’re fighting,” Alex said. “And remember, the Schuylers are just one example. Multiply that by thousands.”

“And all of their belongings are confiscated?” Burr asked.

“Everything,” Alex told him, “but there is a central list kept by the Movement of confiscated belongings. For example, if the Schuyler daughters have been in touch with the Movement, they could submit a list of specific items from the Schuyler household -- paintings, say, or jewelry. Then if it’s ever found, it will be returned to them.”

“I see,” Burr said. “And you try to locate shipments of confiscated belongings?”

“When we can. They’re usually shipped by armored car, but we have reason to believe that some are being sold overseas.”

“So they would have to have Customs forms,” Desi said.

“Exactly.”

“All overseas shipments have identification codes of twenty numbers and letters. We know what some of the sequences mean – which port they’re originating from, which port they’re going to, that sort of thing. I wonder now if part of the sequence might identify shipments of confiscated belongings;” Desi told him.

Burr looked at her. “What about the bypass shipments?” he asked.

Desi nodded thoughtfully. “You might be right,” she said.

“Bypass shipments?” Alex inquired alertly.

“Yeah, they’re shipments that bypass the usual routine,” Burr explained. “They get no inspection. We’re not permitted to open them under any circumstances, even if there’s something suspicious about them.”

“What do you mean by suspicious?” Eliza asked.

“Let’s say we have a package labeled ‘fragile,’ and when we move it, we hear a noise like broken glass inside it,” Burr told her. “For ordinary packages, we open it, and if the vase or whatever is broken, we do a damage report and pull it out of shipping. It would be ridiculous to ship a vase that we already knew was smashed. But if it’s a bypass shipment, we aren’t allowed to do that. We have to report it, and it gets sent to somebody above our pay grade to inspect.”

“That’s quite interesting,” Alex commented.

“Especially if there is an actual list somewhere of confiscated belongings that could be identified,” Desi pointed out.

Eliza thought fleetingly of her locket with the poppies engraved on it and the pictures of Angelica and Peggy in it. Common sense told her it was long gone, but she still held out a slim hope that it would be found one day. And there were thousands of other people like her, hoping to see once again a treasured wedding ring, a silver christening mug, a painting of a beloved grandparent.

“Can you imagine what it would mean for morale if some of these things were returned to their rightful owners?” she asked.

Desi nodded. “That would be amazing.”

“It would,” Alex agreed, “but remember that you run a risk by working with us.”

Desi and Burr looked at each other.

“I know,” Burr said, “but this is something that we have to do.”

“Yes,” Desi agreed. “If not for ourselves, for our child.” She smiled at them. “We want our little girl to grow up in a better world.”

Eliza gave her a hug. “You know it’s a girl, then?”

Desi blushed a little. “Mm-hm.” She looked sideways at Burr. “Aaron wants a little girl.”

Burr gave the biggest grin they’d yet seen from him. “That’s right. A beautiful little girl to spoil.”

“Um, not to be tactless or anything,” Alex said, “but what about Jimmy Prevost? I mean, this is his house, right? Oh, and feel free to tell me it’s none of my business.”

Desi laughed. “Well, it might be your business now that we’re working together. King has temporarily transferred Jimmy to the Atlanta office. He’ll be there for six more months, so by the time he gets back, we’ll be long gone. In the meantime, though, we get to use the house and the facilities.”

“How far along are you?” Eliza asked.

“Twenty-six weeks. About three and a half more months to go, give or take.”

“So, sometime in April?”

“Early April, probably,” Desi told her.

“We’ll see you before then, for sure,” Eliza said.

Alex had been talking to Burr about communication, and they had arranged that Alex would be the one to make contact, so Burr wouldn’t know any numbers he could reveal if things went wrong.

“We’re going to have to get going,” Alex said. “It’s kind of a long drive.”

There were no questions. Need-to-know.

“Would you like to take some cookies home?” Desi asked.

Alex’s face lit up.

Eliza made sure the cookies were in the back seat so that Alex couldn’t sneak any on the way home.

“I like them,” she said.

“The cookies?” Alex asked.

“Duh, no, Burr and Desi. Well, the cookies too, but I was talking about the people. They’re nice.”

“Yeah, they are,” Alex agreed. “I wasn’t sure about Burr at first, but I think he’s okay. I don’t think that having a baby is a particularly good idea right now, though.”

Eliza shrugged. “Maybe not, but maybe it gives them a real stake in the future. It’s like when Gil said to Peggy that they should get started on their family. Everybody’s got their lives on hold, and maybe we just need to live the lives that we have.”

Alex glanced at her, then back at the road. “Are you talking about them or us?” he asked.

“I don’t know. All of us, I think.”

“I want to wait,” he told her softly.

“I know,” she said. “I’d like to reserve the right to re-open the discussion at some future point, though.”

“Of course,” he agreed. He kissed her hand and held it gently all the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really expect to have this much Alex and Eliza stuff here, but some things needed to be said. I love Alex, of course, but I wouldn't want to be in Eliza's place.  
> Thanks for all the support. Let me know what you think.


	23. Let Down My Guard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The squad gets cookies, Peggy speaks French, and John gets dressed for a mission that doesn't go as planned.

Alex threw the door open, yelling, “We’ve got _cookies_!!” and predictably got mobbed. Eliza rescued the container of cookies before it was smashed into crumbs, and they had a group discussion about how to divide the cookies. Desi, not knowing how many people she was providing cookies for, had sent a very generous twenty. That meant two for each of them with four left over. Those four could be carefully cut in half by someone with excellent fine motor skills (Herc or Gil), or, theoretically, could be awarded in a number of ways.

Angelica actually had the nerve to suggest that Alex and Eliza forego any of the cookies that Desi had sent, since they had already eaten two each while meeting with Desi and Burr. Alex quickly threw out that suggestion and began a long, carefully reasoned argument about the additional work he and Eliza had done to merit the extra cookies.

“Furthermore, just traveling into the city should be taken into consideration,” he was saying, “because it does expose us to additional danger …”

“I was kidding, Alex,” Angelica tried to tell him. “ _Kidding_. Please stop talking.”

“When you add in the number of hours that went into planning the negotiation,” Alex continued, “then it becomes clear that …”

“Alex, stop talking or you get no more cookies,” Eliza announced.

Alex stopped, but chewed on his lip.

“How much sugar did he have?” Peggy asked.

“Two cups of coffee with at least six spoonfuls in each, plus the cookies,” Eliza said.

Herc appeared with a glass of cold water. “Drink the water, Alex,” he said.

“I don’t want to,” Alex complained.

Eliza got right in front of him and looked him in the eye. “You have to drink the water and go sit down. Right now.”

He huffed a little, but he did as he was told.

“He wasn’t like that on the way home,” Eliza said.

“Took a while for it to kick in,” Gil told her. “He’ll be fine.”

Alex was sitting on the edge of the couch, poking his finger at the cushion and mumbling.

“He’s arguing with the couch, isn’t he?” Angelica sighed. “I’d better go sit with him.”

“So two cookies each tonight and we cut up the other four tomorrow?” John asked.

“We should cut them tonight because they’ll be harder to cut if they’re stale,” Herc told him.

“Good point. How about one and a half each tonight and then another whole one each tomorrow?”

That suggestion met with approval, and Herc got out the sharpest knife they had to cut four of the cookies in half.

“Will Alex be okay eating more cookies tonight?” Peggy asked Gil.

“Sure. He’ll have some protein and complex carbs first to slow down the metabolization of the sugar, and he won’t be drinking anything caffeinated.” Gil told her.

“Oh, doctor talk,” she said. “I find that quite attractive.”

Gil laughed and started kissing her, and Angelica yelled from the couch, “Knock it off, you two!”

Katie, who had been sitting calmly on the floor playing with Little Baby and her almost bald stuffed elephant, looked up and said, “ _Tonton_ loves _Tatie_.”

“You tell her, Katie!” Gil cheered, and picked Peggy up and spun her around a few times.

“This is what cookies do to us,” Eliza said. “Remember when we had cookies whenever we wanted them?”

“Don’t go there, Eliza!” Angelica warned. It was a firm rule that they didn’t discuss all the luxuries they used to take for granted – abundant and varied food, TV, new clothes, going out to dinner or to a movie. It would be too easy to get swallowed up in missing their old lives.

“I’m not,” Eliza told her sister. “What I actually meant was that maybe we’re better off now. We have enough food, we’re almost never sick, and a cookie or two can be a celebration. We appreciate what we have.”

Angelica abandoned Alex to give Eliza a hug, and John called them all to dinner. It was rice and beans with tomatoes, as usual. Alex had researched cheap, nutritious food that would meet all dietary requirements, and rice and beans had been the obvious choice. They finished it quickly, and Eliza handed out a cookie and a half to each of them. Gil and Peggy sat watching Katie stare at her cookie.

“It’s a cookie, Katie,” Peggy told her. “It’s good.”

Katie licked it and giggled.

“You can bite it, Sweetie.” Peggy took a bite of her own cookie to show her. Katie tried it and thoughtfully chewed the piece she bit off.

“It’s good,” she said. She finished it, but when Peggy offered her the half, she shook her head and got down to play with her toys.

“Katie is more mature than some of the adults here,” Angelica said with a glance at Alex, who ignored her.

“She doesn’t think a cookie is important,” Peggy agreed. “That’s just fine with me.”

“Do you think that I could get some baby yarn?” Eliza asked Alex later that evening when they were all in the living room. “I’d like to make something for Desi.”

“Desi’s pregnant?” Peggy asked.

“Mm-hm. She’s due in early April. It’s a girl,” Eliza said.

“Oh, that’s nice – well, I guess it’s nice. Are they happy about it?”

“Very much so. Burr seems to be thrilled.”

“Well, then, I’m happy for them,” Peggy decided. “And it’s nice of you to want to make something for the baby.”

“I like Desi,” Eliza said. “She’s going into the Movement with her eyes wide open, but she really wants to do it.”

“I think she’s the one who inspired Burr,” Alex said. “He seems more grounded when he’s with her.”

Eliza nodded in agreement. “They’re good together.”

Peggy leaned back against Gil who was behind her on the floor. “Like us, right?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.

Gil gave her a quick kiss. “Nobody’s like us, _chérie._ ”

“You, know, if you look up _insufferable_ in the dictionary,” Alex said, “the illustration is a picture of Peggy and Gil.”

 _“C’est quoi,_ insufferable?” Gil asked suspiciously.

“ _Insupportable,”_ Alex told him.

“ _T’es méchant,_ ” Gil said.

“ _Parfois,_ ” Alex admitted.

“I hate when you guys do that!” Angelica told them.

“But you studied French in school, right?” Gil asked.

“Yeah, three years in high school with Ms. Crandall. I’m not exactly fluent.”

“It’s really sad that you speak only one language,” Gil said fake-sympathetically, and Peggy poked him.

“Stop picking on my sister,” she told him.

 _“En français, chérie?”_ he challenged.

_“Arrête de … hmm … taquiner ma soeur!”_

_“Oh, bravo!”_ He turned to the others. “My wife is brilliant as well as beautiful,” he said proudly. “You see how well she speaks French.”

“You taught me everything I know,” Peggy told him.

The tiniest smile curled the corner of his mouth and he looked into her eyes. “Indeed.”

It took Peggy less than a second to get his meaning, and the bright red blush went up from her throat to her forehead. She covered her face with her hands and hid behind her hair while everyone else hooted with laughter.

“That’s it!” Angelica declared. “Go to your room, both of you!”

 _“Avec plaisir,”_ Gil smiled, offering Peggy his hand.

The rest of them were still laughing when he shut the bedroom door.

“I can’t believe you said that,” Peggy told him, giggling and hiding her red face against his shoulder.

“I can’t believe you – what’s the expression? – walked into it.”

“I did, didn’t I?” she admitted. “It is true, though.”

He sat down on the bed and pulled her down next to him, his arm around her. “Well, maybe,” he said.

“Maybe?"

“I have noticed …” he kissed her throat “that you have a very…” he lifted her hair and kissed the back of her neck “creative mind.”

She slid her hands up into his curls and pulled his head down. “Do I?” She kissed him gently and flicked her tongue between his lips. He started to open his mouth, and she pulled back.

“Lie down,” she said. “Let me play a little.”

He lay back, and she traced his face with her finger, his eyebrows, his cheeks, his beautiful mouth. He watched her face, watched her smile as she touched him. She bent and slowly slipped just the tip of her tongue into his mouth. His arms went around her and he pulled her in and felt her sigh as his tongue touched hers. She lay on top of him, enjoying his mouth, and he tangled his fingers in her hair, holding her face close to his. His other hand slid down her back and into the waist of her jeans.

“Your pants are tight,” he whispered against her mouth. “I can hardly get my hand in.”

“Try harder,” she told him, and she felt him smile against her lips.

His hand moved around her hip and between them, finding the button and the zipper. Her pants undone, his hand went back, easily slipping inside her jeans now, then inside her underpants, teasing her ass. He felt her breathing quicken, but she kept kissing him. She moved a little to one side, so that his thigh was between her legs and began rubbing against him, his hand still playing inside her pants. He pushed her down a little so that she could rub harder, then held her in place while he moved his leg against her. She whimpered a little and tried to sit up, but he kept her tight between his hand and his thigh.

“I want …,” she gasped.

“What do you want?” his mouth still on hers.

“I want my clothes off,” she said, breathless but half laughing.

“I don’t want to let go,” he told her.

“You can get my clothes off fast. You’ve done it before.”

“Mm, you’re right about that.” He yanked her pants down to her knees, and she kicked them off the rest of the way.

“Yours too,” she said, and his followed, and he pulled her back to where she had been and slid his hand between them, one finger extended to reach almost inside her, but just sliding back and forth. She tried to push herself onto his finger because by now she was aching to have him inside of her, but he wouldn’t quite let her do it.

“Just a little bit longer,” he whispered.

She felt like she was going to explode, as his finger went back and forth, opening her up just the slightest bit, then moving in circles. Involuntarily, she spread her legs and straddled him, and he moved under her. She lifted her hips and he barely got the condom on before she lowered herself onto him, letting him fill her until she felt like she was being stretched open. It was the best feeling in the world. She wanted to keep him inside her forever, and at the same time wanted to keep moving until everything spun out of focus. He held her tight to him and rolled over so that he could move easily. He pulled back until he was almost out, and she grabbed at him, trying to pull him back in. He went back in very slowly, letting her feel every bit of it, pushing deep. He found the rhythm, and every time he pushed in, she tightened herself around him. He watched her face, her eyes wide and unfocused, her lips parted. He heard her panting and whimpering, and he wanted to give her everything she had ever wanted. He knew her body and her face, and when her climax was about to begin, he pushed as deep into her as he could and filled her, and she wrapped her legs around him and bit his shoulder so she wouldn’t scream.

They were both still breathing hard when they untangled themselves from one another. He pulled her to him and kissed her.

“I did not teach you all of that, _chérie,_ ” he whispered.

“No?”

“No, because I never knew it could be this good. That’s what you’ve taught me.”

She snuggled closer to him. “We never even took our shirts off,” she remarked, as if she had just noticed.

“We seem to have managed anyway.”

“Oh, yes.”

Gil pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the floor. “I don’t sleep in clothes,” he reminded her.

She ran her hand over his bare chest, enjoying the way he felt. “I like that about you.”

He tugged on her shirt. “It’s only fair, _chérie._ ” It was one of the few things they disagreed on.

“I’ll be cold,” she pouted, but she let her shirt and bra be thrown on the floor with everything else. It was good, she had to admit, to feel his warmth against her with no barrier. His hands stroked her gently.

 _“Ta beauté m’éblouit,”_ he whispered into her hair. _“Mon cher petit mouton_. I love you so much.”

“I love you,” she murmured. “Keep me warm.”

 _“Avec plaisir,”_ he said, holding her.

* * * * *

Alex and John met with Crazy Tony in the morning to start planning John’s sketching missions into the city. The concept was simple but the preliminary work needed to be meticulous to keep John safe while he was gathering information. One problem was that the scenic parts of the river port were mostly recreational, and the areas where the commercial shipping was carried on were industrial, not the sort of subject that an artist was likely to be interested in. John decided that he would pose as an artist-historian who was working on a project about Art Déco influence on industrial design. As an art major, he had taken plenty of art history classes, and he could discuss the topic intelligently and at length if necessary. He was far more likely to have to explain himself to port workers or security guards than to fellow artists. He worked up a good backstory. As Sean Burns, a well-to-do young Have, he had the leisure time and inclination to pursue a post-graduate degree in art history, and his imaginary family had enough money to support him as he did it. He would present himself as being a little spoiled, a little lazy, but charming. He would drive the Audi and wear nice clothes, doing all his sketches in colored pencil. They were just preliminary, he would tell people.

“I might need some clothes,” John said.

“Like what?” Alex asked.

“A jacket, gloves, maybe a scarf. Shoes.”

“Didn’t Eliza knit you a scarf?”

“Um, yeah, out of brown Walmart yarn. Not what all the rich kids are wearing this year. I want to get started on this as soon as I can, but it’s still cold out. If I’m going to sit outside and sketch, I’ll need warm clothes.”

Alex nodded. “Okay. I wonder if that’s something Desi could help us with. I’ll find out.”

“Who are you sending in with him?” Tony asked. People didn’t go on missions alone, even ones like this that seemed unlikely to be dangerous.

“Probably Herc or Angelica. Why?”

“I thought maybe I’d send Joe Lawrence along. He hasn’t been out yet, and this is a good place to start.”

“Good idea, “Alex agreed. “Now let’s see about getting Renoir here properly dressed.”

John began explaining how un-Renoir-like industrial design was, but Alex was already busy with a couple of phones.

“Okay,” he said after a few minutes, “we’re supposed to have a few sunny, dry days at the end of next week. Temps in the fifties. Let’s tentatively plan for Thursday. If I can coordinate with Desi, you’ll go to her place first to get dressed. If I can’t reach her, you’ll have to make do with what we’ve got here. See what Herc can do with what we’ve got.”

When John brought that request to Herc later in the day, all he got was a laugh.

“Are you familiar with the expression ‘You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear’?” Herc asked sarcastically.

“No,” John replied. “What’s a sow?”

“A female pig,” Herc told him.

“People make purses out of pigs’ ears?” John asked. “That’s just sick.”

“Angelica, help me,” Herc begged, and Angelica did her best to explain the metaphor to John, who lost patience after the first sentence.

“Look, I don’t need any kind of purse,” he said. “I need a jacket, a scarf, gloves, and shoes. What have we got?”

“We’re good on the jacket,” Herc told him. “There’s that brown tweed one that you brought with you. I’ll brush it and clean it up, and it will be fine. I think … hey, Alex, don’t you have a pair of brown leather gloves?”

“Yeah, does John need them?”

“He will if we’re dressing him. I’ll need to look at them and see if they need cleaning or anything.”

Alex went to get the gloves and came back with them, bringing a pair of brown leather dress shoes as well.

“How about these?” he asked.

“Damn, Alex, those are ugly shoes,” John objected. “How come they’ve got all those little holes in them?”

“They’re classic wingtips, John. You’ll survive.”

“No, I won’t. I’ll be so distracted by the ugly shoes that I won’t be able to draw.”

“Well, it’s these or sneakers,” Alex told him.

“No sneakers,” Herc ruled. “Just don’t look at your feet.”

John grumbled a little, but agreed.

“So, all we need is a scarf, right?” Alex asked. “Eliza, how fast can you knit?”

“Really fast, but I would need yarn,” she pointed out.

“We’re out of yarn?”

“Pretty much. I think I have a couple of yards of a nice forest green.”

“You can’t make a scarf out of that?”

Eliza and Herc exchanged looks. “No, Alex,” Herc said. He thought for a minute. “You know what I could use to make a nice-looking scarf? A piece of that beige blanket with the green stripes.”

“No!” Eliza said. “You are not touching my blanket.”

“Okay, then, no scarf,” Herc conceded.

“I’ll see if I can get Desi on that,” Alex said. “Do we need anything else to make him look like the rich young artist?”

Herc looked John over critically. “A haircut?”

“You’re not touching my hair,” John told him.

“Not me, but maybe Angelica?” Nobody bothered much about haircuts except Herc, who buzzed his own, but if anybody needed a trim, Angelica usually did it.

“I have been told,” John said, batting his eyelashes at Alex, “that my hair is perfect.”

Eliza raised her eyebrow.

“What?” Alex asked defensively. “He has nice hair.”

“Lovely hair,” Eliza agreed, petting his curls. “But maybe a trim?”

“How about highlights?” Herc suggested.

“No!” said John.

“Only kidding. Just a little gel to bring out the curl. Angelica, do we have any hair gel around here?”

“I think Gil has some,” Angelica said.

“Of course he does,” Alex remarked. “All right, that should do it, and if Desi comes up with a scarf and maybe some different shoes, so much the better.”

It took a couple of days for Desi to get a message back to him, but the news was good. John could borrow both shoes and a scarf from Burr, and Desi might have some other things for him as well. The phone messages had to be coded in such a way that it sounded like “Sean” was borrowing clothes from a friend for a formal occasion, so there was no way to know if Desi’s “other things” referred to articles of clothing or information. John, Angelica, and Joe Lawrence would go into the city, stop first to meet with Desi, then take John down to a likely spot along the Delaware River. Joe and Angelica would hang out in a small coffee house for a while, then go to another coffee house, being careful not to stay too long in any one spot. Joe’s ID, newly crafted by John, identified him as Noah Keating. They had filled him in on the backstory, and he was posing as Angelica’s brother. It was unlikely that any questions would be asked of young, well-dressed Haves with proper identification, but they reviewed the details so that their answers, if needed, would be consistent.

Thursday was clear and sunny as predicted, and they got an early start. Desi welcomed them with coffee (no cookies) and they introduced themselves as Sean and Allison and Allison’s brother Noah. Desi was definitely not need-to-know on their real identities. They sat on the comfortable leather chairs for a few minutes while Desi brought out a pair of glossy brown oxfords and a soft cream-colored cashmere scarf.

“Nice,” John said. He tried them on. Desi tucked the scarf in a little differently and looked him over.

“You look wonderful,” she said. “You’re a rich graduate student with time and money to burn, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” John grinned.

“Is there anything else you need?” she asked.

“I think that’s it,” John started, then hesitated and added, “You wouldn’t by any chance have any white silk, would you?”

Desi frowned. “White silk? You mean silk fabric?”

“Yeah, that would be good, or any white silk scarf that you wouldn’t mind getting rid of. I can’t tell you what it would be for.”

“I understand,” Desi said. “Let me go look.”

She left the room, and they heard her go upstairs.

“Good thinking, John,” Angelica said. “I think it would be a hard thing to buy.”

“Yeah, Haves don’t sew their own clothes, and not many places would sell plain white silk scarves,” John agreed. “If Desi doesn’t have anything now, she can be on the lookout for it.”

Desi returned a few minutes later with a white silk blouse over her arm. She handed it to John. “What do you think?”

John spread it out. “This is good,” he said. “Front, back, long sleeves. There’s lots of fabric here, and it’s good quality silk.”

Desi gave a small smile. “It doesn’t fit me now anyway,” she said, “so you’re welcome to it.”

“It’s a beautiful blouse,” Angelica said a little wistfully. “It seems like a shame to cut it up.”

John gave her a look. “You of all people, Ange – Allison,” he said, mentally beating himself up for almost blowing the name. He coughed to cover it, but Desi didn’t seem to notice anything, and Angelica jumped into the conversation quickly.

“Oh, I know,” she said. “There will be plenty of time later to think about clothes.”

“I have a couple of other things for you,” Desi continued. She opened a desk drawer and took out two phones. “These have been wiped,” she said. “James can program them however he wants.”

“’James’ is going to love those,” Joe told her.

“And I’m thinking maybe you can use some cash.” She pulled a roll of bills out of her pocket. “There’s fives, tens, and twenties, all well-worn,” she said, “a little under two hundred dollars.”

That was way more cash than they usually had access to at one time. Alex had given them twenty dollars to spend at coffee shops, and had told them to be sure to bring home any change.

Angelica threw her arms around Desi. “You have no idea how much we can use this.”

Desi smiled. “I figured cash would be hard for you to get,” she said.

“Are you sure you can spare it?” John asked.

Desi’s smile grew wider. “Oh, it’s not mine. It’s a small contribution from Jimmy Prevost, whose paycheck comes directly from King. I told him he needed an electrical outlet repaired and that the guy wanted cash. Jimmy has no problem paying somebody under the table to save a few dollars.”

“Even though it’s illegal?” Joe asked.

Desi nodded. “Jimmy’s pretty corrupt,” she said, “just like most of King’s administration.” Her smile was a little crooked.

Angelica gave her another hug. “Thanks for everything,” she said. “Thanks for being with us.”

“I want my baby to grow up in a better world,” Desi told her.

“We’re working on that,” John said.

When they got back to the car, Angelica took a few fives from the cash and gave them to John. “You probably won’t need it, but just in case.”

They put the rest of the cash and the two phones in the lock box that Tony had built into the console. It looked like an ordinary storage bin, but the key was part of Angelica’s jingly charm bracelet, and there was no other way to open it without taking the car apart.

“You ought to put that silk blouse in there too,” Joe suggested. “It’s a weird thing for somebody to just carry around.”

Angelica folded the blouse up as small as she could and stuffed it into the lock box, then locked it. She drove a little south into an industrial area, and dropped John off at his chosen site where he had a good view upriver of various docks and buildings. John got his large sketchbook and his pencils out of the trunk and found a conveniently placed concrete barricade to sit on. He waved as she and Joe pulled away, looking every bit the charming young artist.

“I wish there was some way he could contact us,” she said, not for the first time. “This is one time I really miss my phone.”

“So in an emergency …?” Joe asked.

“In an emergency, we handle it,” she told him. “That’s what we’re trained for.”

They had, in fact, gone over every contingency they could think of for the last few days. Tony had changed out the license plates of the Audi again. They were both dressed as prosperous Haves, including oversized sunglasses. Joe had used the last few weeks to grow a stubbly goatee, and Angelica had twisted her curls into a sleek, tight bun. Last time she had come into town, she had worn braids, and the time before that, her hair was down. This was Joe’s first mission in the Philadelphia area and he’d had enough advance warning to acquire the facial hair; he’d shave next time.

They drove back north to an area with nice apartment buildings and parked the car in an anonymous multi-level parking garage. There was a well-maintained little park across the street with upscale cafés and pricey boutiques. They ordered lattes at a café and sat near the back, keeping an eye on who came and went, all the while maintaining what appeared to be a friendly conversation. They were scheduled to pick John up in two hours, so they had allotted forty-five minutes in this café, a brief drive, then forty-five minutes in another café, never staying long enough in one place to be noticed. They finished the lattes, disposed of their trash, and put their coats back on.

They were halfway out the door when a voice behind them called, “Angelica?”

Angelica didn’t miss a beat. She took Joe’s arm and chatted to him vivaciously, praying that whoever it was would think she’d made a mistake, but the voice continued insistently.

“Angelica Schuyler?”

She stopped and looked around. “I’m sorry, were you talking to me?”

There in front of her stood the obnoxious Shippen girl who had been friends with Sam Seabury.


	24. Get Out Fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angelica, Joe, and John do their best to maintain their cover. Alex talks to Headquarters.

“Angelica?”

There was just enough doubt in the girl’s voice to give Angelica hope. “I’m sorry,” she said politely, “but you must have me mixed up with someone else. My name’s Allison.”

“You’re not Angelica Schuyler?” the girl said. And what the hell was her first name? Sally? Sandy? Sadie, that was it.

Angelica used her best patient-with-children voice. “No, I’m Allison Burns,” she said and started to move on, but Sadie Shippen caught at her sleeve.

“You didn’t used to go to Columbia? With your sister?"

“No. I don’t have any sisters. This is my brother Noah, not that it’s any of your business. I went to Penn. Now, I really do have somewhere to be …”

The girl looked from Angelica to Joe and back again. Even if Angelica looked familiar to her, Joe didn’t, and she hadn’t seen Angelica Schuyler for nearly three years.

“I heard Angelica Schuyler was dead, but you look …” the Shippen girl went on.

“Look, that’s enough,” Joe snapped, stepping in front of Angelica. “My sister has already told you three times that she is not your friend Esmeralda or whatever it was, which I can certainly confirm. Now please stop harassing us because we have an appointment that we don’t want to be late for.”

Sadie Shippen didn’t move for a minute, then her face got pouty and she shrugged. “All right,” she said. “Sorry.”

Joe took Angelica by the elbow, and said to her, loudly enough for Sadie to hear, “Come on, Allie, let’s go. We’ve got to be in Baltimore by five.”

Angelica nodded and walked with him across the street and into the parking garage, not daring to look back. They raced to the car as fast as they could, but exited the garage normally, paying cash at the booth. Angelica was shaking so much that Joe drove, going exactly the speed limit back to where they had left John. John was surprised to see them an hour early, but one look at Joe’s face told him that something had happened, and he grabbed his things and jumped into the back seat.

“What the fuck?” he started as they pulled onto the interstate.

“Sadie mother-fucking Shippen,” Angelica told him. “Right there in the coffee house.”

 _“Jesus!_ ” John said. “Joe, get off the interstate and take a back way home. Did she see the car?”

“I don’t know,” Joe said, swerving onto the off-ramp without signaling. “I didn’t see her anywhere when we pulled out of the parking garage, but she could have been watching.”

“Get across the bridge, Joe,” John said.

“What?”

“Get into Jersey. We’ll go northeast through central Jersey then cross the Delaware north of Trenton.”

Joe nodded and followed the signs for the Betsy Ross Bridge, then went almost due east into a state forest until John told him to head north. There had been no sign of pursuit, but they knew better than to think they were out of danger. Angelica pulled out her hairpins and threw them out the window, shaking her hair loose to change her appearance as much as possible.

“Joe, that was genius saying we were going to Baltimore,” she said. “Thanks.”

“It’s okay. I just wanted to give her some place south because we’d be heading north. Hopefully, if she made any calls, that’s where they’re looking.”

Angelica gave a gasp that was half a sob. “Oh, God, I hope we convinced her.”

“Tell me everything she said,” John told her, and Angelica went through the entire conversation as nearly as she could recall it. Joe added a couple of things and John scribbled it all down as close to verbatim as possible on a piece of drawing paper.

“It sounds good, guys,” he said. “Sounds like you played it cool, really.”

“She could have gotten our license number as we came out of the parking garage,” Angelica said, sounding close to panic. “She could have been on the phone to the Greaters in a minute.”

“We need to change the plates,” John said. He willed himself to think. It was midafternoon and bright and sunny. Where in the world could they steal license plates without being caught?

“Look for a strip mall or a shopping area,” he said. “Not a nice fancy one, something kind of run down, behind it where the workers park. Check for cameras.”

They were traveling through a lot of pine woods dotted with small towns. They entered a town called Calpurnia, a place that had clearly seen better days. The main street had several empty storefronts along with a thrift shop and a tired-looking restaurant.

“Go around the block,” John said.

Joe obediently turned until they were directly behind the row of mostly empty stores. They drove past at a moderate pace, not slowly enough to be conspicuous, and John examined the back walls.

“No cameras,” he said. “Go around one more time. Angelica, help me look for a car.”

On the second lap, they found one, a battered late nineties Toyota parked behind one of the empty stores, maybe by an employee of one of the others. Joe pulled in and positioned the Audi so that it would block most of the Toyota from view.

“Okay, listen,” John directed. “Anybody comes along, you two are having a fight about something and you pulled in here to continue it because Joe was so mad he couldn’t drive. If you see somebody coming, get out of the car, take the fight outside and go at it. I can have the plates changed in five minutes.”

Angelica gave John the small tool kit from the glove box, and he put his jacket, gloves and scarf on the back seat. He opened the back door on the side near the buildings, slid out, and left the door not quite latched. Joe and Angelica decided to start pretend-arguing just in case anybody came along and kept it up for a nerve-racking twelve minutes, not five, as Angelica later pointed out to John.

“Not responsible for rust,” he muttered, slipping back into the car.

Joe backed out carefully, drove a few blocks, then pulled over. “Angelica, get in the back and lie down, or at least keep your head down. John, you sit up here. If they’re looking for a guy and a girl, we’ll be better off with two guys in the front seat.”

Angelica scrunched uncomfortably down in the back seat, then tried lying down, which was no less uncomfortable. She did, however, spot a battered baseball cap that somebody had left under the seat, and handed it up to Joe. It did a pretty good job of disguising his shaved head, and he and John also traded jackets. With Angelica staying low in the back seat and shielding her face as much as possible with her hair, they felt a little more secure.

Joe stayed on the road parallel to the main street until they were well north of Calpurnia’s “downtown.” They breathed a little easier as they continued through one nondescript area after another, avoiding towns of any size, and crossed the Delaware about fifty miles north of Trenton, the Audi now sporting New Jersey plates. Angelica wondered if the owner of the Toyota would notice his car’s New York plates, and hoped he wasn’t leaving work until after dark. The longer it took him to detect the switch, the better for them.

It was still a long ride through farm country and hills getting back to the cabin. They were hungry, since they hadn’t had lunch and it was now past dinner time, so after a quick discussion, they decided to use some of Desi’s cash to get sandwiches and juice. “Alex will kill us if we spend it on junk food,” Angelica said, looking longingly at the cases of soda and chips through the convenience store window. John went in to get their dinner, since Sadie Shippen hadn’t seen him and he wouldn’t fit any description she might have given. They ate in the car while Joe drove through miles of dark farmland, then into the hills and finally into the mountains. There was no way to make good time on the steep, twisting secondary roads even in daylight, but they couldn’t risk taking a main route. It was past midnight when Joe finally pulled up in front of Alex’s cabin, dropped John and Angelica off, and headed back toward Tony’s.

Alex, gun in hand, was out the door before they got out of the car. As soon as he saw them, he yelled over his shoulder. “They’re home!” and dropped his gun long enough to wrap his arms around John while Eliza threw herself at Angelica, Peggy right behind her. Herc and Gil, their guns ready, watched, alert, just in case this wasn’t what it seemed to be, but within a few minutes, they were all inside, and Angelica was cursing with Alex-like fluency.

“That goddam obnoxious mother-fucking Shippen girl,” she was saying, swiping her hand across her face at her angry tears.

“Wait, what Shippen girl?” Alex asked, suddenly attentive.

“The one who was there the day you beat the crap out of Sam Seabury, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember her,” Alex said. “She was one of Seabury’s crowd of pathetic wannabes. Five or six of them always hanging around him. Shit, she’s in Philly now?”

“She sure is. Wasn’t she from Philly in the first place?”

“Yeah, she was,” Herc confirmed, coming in from the kitchen with cups of tea. “Sadie, her name is, right?”

Angelica nodded. “She was in the coffee house, and she recognized me. Joe and I acted like we had no idea what she was talking about, but I don’t know if we fooled her.”

“Fuck,” Alex said. “What exactly did she say?”

John pulled his piece of drawing paper out of his pocket. “Here,” he said, “I wrote it down before they had a chance to forget.”

Alex kissed him. “You are a genius,” he told him and read the scribbled page over a couple of times. “You and Joe couldn’t have done any better,” he told Angelica. “No matter what, she can’t be sure she saw Angelica Schuyler. I’m wondering where she heard Angelica was dead.”

Peggy shivered. “That’s a horrible thought,” she said.

“Yes,” Alex agreed, “but that rumor would have been started by King. Remember that your parents are admired and seen as brave citizens. King doesn’t want anybody rallying around the Schuyler daughters, so it’s to his benefit if they’re assumed to be dead.”

“That makes sense,” Gil agreed, “but it’s clear that it is just a rumor. The Shippen girl wasn’t sure.”

Alex nodded. “I need more information about Sadie Shippen and her family. I know her father is something in the government, but I don’t know what.”

“Didn’t she have a bunch of sisters, Alex?” Herc asked.

Alex shrugged. “I barely knew her, just used to see her around with Seabury’s crowd. How did you know her?”

“Okay, you remember I was there when you beat Seabury up, right? Remember how John and I sort of had to restrain you?”

Angelica finally smiled. “You had to sit on him, you mean.”

“I remember that, for sure,” John said, grinning. He looked at Herc. “Oh, wait a minute, was that the girl?”

Herc nodded. “Yep. Didn’t have enough sense to count her feet with both hands and a calculator.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Eliza asked.

“You tell them, Herc,” John said. “I’ve already had a long day.”

“Okay,” Herc said, settling on the floor. “This was a while back, when Washington was still President, our freshman year. This Sadie Shippen chick was in a couple of my classes, and she kept giving me the eye.”

“You?” Peggy asked with a snicker.

“I know, right?” Herc agreed. “Like who would think I’m straight? Girl was an idiot. Anyway, she kept coming on to me. It was kind of pathetic, really, so I finally told her – you know, you’re a nice girl, we can be friends, but I’m gay.”

“What did she say to that” Gil asked.

Herc looked at John, and they both started laughing. “She asked me if I was sure.”

“Oh, God,” Alex said, dropping his head to his hands.

“So anyway,” Herc went on, “I told her, duh, yes, I’m sure, I’ve been sure pretty much as long as I can remember, I’ve been out since I was thirteen, my mom’s cool with it, yada, yada, all the stupid shit you say to clueless people.”

“And?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, well, that’s when she got really annoying,” Herc said, shifting uncomfortably. “She started following me around, trying to have these fucking sincere, _meaningful_ talks with me about maybe I should reconsider being gay.”

“No!” Eliza said.

“Oh, yeah,” Herc told her. “You guys know, anyway, it’s just something we have to deal with sometimes. Usually it’s just, yeah, thanks very much for your interest in my personal life, now fuck off, but this girl … I don’t know, she really creeped me out.”

“Was it a religious thing?” Alex asked.

Herc shrugged. “Who knows? I mean, she didn’t tell me I was going to burn in hell or anything. I’ve heard that before, too, but she just kept at it.”

“I think it’s because Herc is so devastatingly handsome and charming that she couldn’t give up,” John suggested.

Herc mock-glared at him. “Fuck you,” he said.

“I remember when it was happening,” John told him. “It was hilarious.”

“For you, maybe. For me, it was mostly embarrassing. So anyway, the day of the Seabury thing, there’s Alex, after twenty cups of coffee and a pile of glazed donuts, ready to kill Seabury and all his friends, and there’s John and me holding him down …”

“Sitting on him,” John corrected.

“Whatever. But Sadie Shippen was there, and that was when she stopped hanging around me. The thing is, a few days after that, I got this sickening letter from her. All bright turquoise ink on pale pink paper – well, that alone should tell you she had no business being a textile design major – about how she thought better of me than that I would associate with such a reprobate as Alex Hamilton.”

“Reprobate?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, that was the word. She went on about how now she understood my moral degeneracy …”

“Jesus!” Gil broke in, “That’s disgusting.”

“I know. There was more of the same, but that’s the gist of it.”

Alex was sitting there, open-mouthed. “Are you saying she blames your being gay on the people you hang around with?” he asked.

“Fuck if I know,” Herc said. “She’s dumb as a bag of hammers. What I am saying, though, is that she hates me, you, and anybody we hang around with, so I’d bet money on her following up on thinking she saw Angelica. She might think she has a score to settle.”

Alex was thinking. “Okay,” he said after a few minutes, “I’m going to have to run this past the General, or at least somebody at Headquarters. I’ve got to find out what her father does, check on these other sisters you mentioned. We can find out, see if this compromises anything. We need to know if Sadie is in Philly all the time or if she was just there for a visit, because she’d know all of us except Peggy by sight. On the other hand …” he looked speculatively at Herc.

“What?” Herc asked warily.

“I don’t know yet,” Alex said. “I’m just wondering if she might still find you devastatingly handsome and charming.”

“No,” Herc said.

“Just thinking,” Alex told him. “Kicking ideas around inside my head.”

“Still no,” Herc said.

“Okay, can’t settle anything tonight anyway. We all need sleep, and I can’t make any decisions without more information. Maybe Burr and Desi can help on this.”

“Oh, my God, the phones!” Angelica suddenly exclaimed. “We left them in the car.”

She and John told Alex about the phones and cash that Desi had given them.

“No worries,” Alex said. “I’ll go get them in the morning. I need to fill Tony in on the Shippen girl anyway. Get some sleep, kids.”

Nobody got enough sleep, but Katie was up at seven, as usual, and when Peggy followed her out of the bedroom, Alex was still sound asleep on the couch, his hair in his face and his arm protectively around John. Herc was in the kitchen stirring the oatmeal, looking only a little less alert than usual.

“How you doing, Katie girl?” Herc asked, picking her up.

“You maka oapmeal?” Katie inquired. “You measure it by youself?”

Herc nodded. “I did. I managed to measure it without you this morning. You can stir, though.” He let her take a few turns with the big wooden spoon before she decided to go find Little Baby.

Peggy got herself a cup of tea and sat sipping it thoughtfully.

“You okay?” she asked Herc.

He looked at her in surprise. “Sure,” he said. “Why?”

“Just thinking about that weird girl and the way she treated you.”

Herc smiled. “Long ago and far away, honey. Anyway, you can’t let shit like that get to you. There’s always going to be people like Sadie Shippen around. You’ve just got to look past them and see the real people.”

Peggy stood up and gave him a hug. “Love you,” she said.

He kissed the top of her head. “I know. Love you too.”

The rest of them wandered out one by one, and Angelica made Alex and John get up so that they could fold the couch up. Alex went to see Crazy Tony as soon as he’d had breakfast and filled him in on whatever Joe hadn’t been able to tell him. He came back with the phones, the cash, and the silk shirt from Desi.

“That is more cash than we’ve ever had on hand,” he said with a grin.

“We had to spend some of it,” John confessed. “We got sandwiches.”

“Good,” Alex said. “It would have been ridiculous not to. It’s still a ton of cash for us.” He handed the silk shirt to John. “I’m assuming this is for you to draw maps on, so take charge of it. And with the two wiped phones, I can probably get a clear line to Headquarters, at least temporarily. I’m going to work on that in the bunk room, so leave me alone.”

They knew better than to bother Alex while he was working, so they got mundane things done around the cabin. John and Gil went outside to chop wood for the stove, while Herc and Eliza took care of laundry, which they did by hand. Peggy read to Katie, having decided that she was ready to move on to the other twenty-five letters now that she knew K. Angelica swept the floor, then helped Eliza and Herc hang the clothes outside on the clotheslines that went from tree to tree a little way back in the woods so that the laundry wouldn’t be easily seen and be a giveaway that the cabin was inhabited. Early in the afternoon, right after Katie went down for her nap, an unsmiling Alex emerged from the bunk room and called them together for a meeting.

“Here’s what I’ve got,” he said. “First, the Shippen girl’s father is a federal judge for the Eastern Pennsylvania District Court, based in Philadelphia. He started sucking up to King right after President Washington died. We want to stay as far away from him as possible. Second, Sadie Shippen has three sisters. Two of them aren’t important; one lives in San Francisco and the other in Seattle, and they’re not involved in politics, but the other one, Meg, is married to Ben Arnold.”

There was a gasp from almost everyone. Ben Arnold had been President Washington’s press secretary; Washington had placed complete trust in him. Then, right before the end of Washington’s second term, Ben Arnold had switched parties and turned against everything Washington stood for. He had spoken out against General Akhdir, dropping hints about some unspoken reason why Akhdir was unqualified. He was a strong supporter of Blodman, and after Blodman became disabled, switched loyalties once again to be a dedicated backer of King. He had probably turned his coat once too often, though, and King sent him off to a consulate in Switzerland, where he had little influence but was safely out of the way. There had been talk that he wanted to come back, but even King, who loved flatterers, was wary of Arnold.

“Oh, they sound like a great family in so many ways,” Angelica commented, rolling her eyes. “One of King’s pet judges and the traitorous Ben Arnold.”

“Yeah, let’s just say I wouldn’t want them over for dinner,” Alex agreed. “Now, none of this is actual proof that Sadie presents a danger, but I think we’d do well to be on our guard. Also, the General said that some of his people picked up chatter yesterday about a sighting of a wanted person in Philadelphia. They couldn’t get any names, but it may well have been Angelica.”

“Shit,” said Angelica.

“I know. According to everyone I talked to, Sadie is still going to Columbia. She’s doing graduate work in design.”

Herc snorted. “She’s probably trying to stay in school until she figures out exactly what design is,” he said.

“The good news for us,” Alex went on, “is that she was home on winter break. It was just bad luck that you ran into her a couple of days before she goes back to New York. We’ll keep track of Columbia’s breaks and stay out of town when she might be around, but even so, we have to deal with the fact that one of us could be recognized. Sadie Shippen isn’t the only former Columbia student in Philadelphia. Tony’s squad has the same issue. Molly is from Harrisburg, and Ben and Tony are both from Philly. Liz and Joe are from New York, but that’s not that far away. The only one who doesn’t really have connections in the area is Jack. He grew up and went to college in New Hampshire, so he’s less likely to run into someone he knows. With us, John’s from South Carolina, and Gil grew up in France, but they both lived in New York for nearly five years. Other than that, we’re all from New York.

“Nobody would know me,” Peggy said quietly.

“No!” said Gil, Angelica, and Eliza at the same time.

Alex looked at Peggy seriously. “I won’t lie to you, I thought about it,” he said, “but we decided more than two years ago that your job was to take care of Katie. You’re not doing missions.”

“You know I would …” Peggy started, and John reached over and grabbed her hand.

“We all know you would, Sis,” he said. He didn’t call her that often, but they shared a bond that no one else had. “Nobody here doubts your courage after everything you’ve done, but we all need to know that no matter what happens, Katie will be okay. That’s your job.”

Peggy nodded, teary-eyed, and Gil pulled her close to him. “We all decided,” he said. “You don’t get to vote against the majority.”

Alex smiled. “Yeah, that’s how we’re different from King’s administration. Votes matter. The General wants us to lie low for a while. The Schuyler sisters are not going into town until we get more information about that possible ‘sighting.’ That may take a couple of weeks. With the new phones, I can probably reload some cards, and we’ll send Gil and Jack in for shopping. They’re the least likely to be recognized. We ought to do something about Gil’s hair, though, because it’s kind of … memorable.”

Gil raised his eyebrows. “But in a good way, right?”

Alex ignored him, and Angelica offered, “I could cornrow it.”

“Oh, that would be cute!” Peggy said.

“I’m less interested in cute than I am in anonymous,” Alex told her. “Just something simple, so he can pull a hat over it. We’ll wait a week, send them in, maybe have them meet with Desi and Burr. We owe Desi a lot. Oh, and that reminds me, be sure to get yarn, right, Eliza?”

She smiled. “Yes, pink and white. I’ll tell you exactly what I need.”

“So I’m not going into Philly to do any more sketching?” John asked, sounding disappointed.

“Not right now, but the General okayed my showing you the maps and you can copy them onto pieces of Desi’s silk blouse. That will keep you busy. Everybody else, there are some preliminary things going on that pertain to Dolphin, but no details for now. Until we get word, we wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The squad will be preparing for Dolphin. The next chapter is several days away, what with pies and turkeys to tend to. I hope you all have a great Thanksgiving. Thanks so much for the kudos and the comments. I love hearing from you!


	25. Remind Me What We’re Looking For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The squad talks about the future. Gil gets a new hairstyle. Burr and Desi have found something. Alex opens a box.

Five days later, a blizzard hit Pennsylvania and dumped two feet of snow on the Poconos. Twenty-four hours after that, the temperature fell into single digits, and both Alex’s and Tony’s squads had all they could do to keep the cabins warm enough. Everybody bundled up in multiple sweaters and socks and clustered around the wood stove.

Alex decided to close off the bedrooms to conserve heat, so they dragged the mattresses out into the main room. They pretty much took up the whole floor area, and Katie thought it was great fun jumping from one to another, but tempers frayed from the cold and isolation didn’t improve with being in even closer quarters. What little privacy they had managed to carve out was gone, and they began to snap at each other over trivial things. When Eliza woke everyone up at two in the morning yelling, “Get your damn foot off my back!” at Alex, it was clear that patience was running out.

“Okay, look,” Angelica said the next evening. They were gathered near the wood stove on their mattresses, wrapped in blankets. “I love you all, but we’re going to kill each other if this weather doesn’t break. Give me some suggestions.”

“Have we got a reliable forecast?” Herc asked.

“Four or five more days,” Alex told him, checking a phone, “but even then it’s only going to be in the twenties. We’re in the mountains in January. We’ve got another month or six weeks of winter.”

“Fuck,” said John and Gil at the same time.

“Are we going to be able to get a car to town for food?” Eliza asked.

“Yeah, next week, I think,” Alex said. “The roads have been plowed; it’s just getting from here to the road. We’re okay for food, right John?”

“We’ve got oatmeal, rice and beans, canned tomatoes, some other canned stuff,” John said. “Might be nice to vary the menu a little, though.”

Alex nodded. “Maybe we can get some sugar,” he said wistfully.

“Right,” agreed Angelica sarcastically, “and some chocolate covered strawberries. Oh, and don’t forget the shrimp cocktail.”

“Stop!” Peggy pleaded. “It’s not going to do us any good to think about things we can’t have.”

“Yet,” Gil added thoughtfully.

“What?” Peggy asked, turning toward him.

“Things we can’t have yet,” he said, smiling. “We know better than to focus on what we used to have, right? But we hardly ever talk about what we’re going to have when this is over. So tell me, what are you going to do when King is defeated and we have free elections and a President who was actually chosen by the citizens? What’s your life going to be like?”

“You’re the one asking,” Herc said. “You start.”

“Okay,” Gil agreed. He put his arm around Peggy. “Everybody knows that my wife and I are going to have a big house and lots of kids. But what kind of house would you like, _chérie?_ ”

“A stone one,” Peggy responded promptly, “one of those big old colonial stone farmhouses that we’ve seen near Philadelphia. On a hill, I think.”

“How big?” Gil asked, encouraging her.

“Well, with us and Katie and another five or six kids, we’re going to need a lot of space. Will six bedrooms be enough, do you think?”

“Will your kids share bedrooms?” Angelica asked, playing along.

Peggy nodded. “I think they’ll have to. There are worse things than sharing a bedroom with your sisters. Oh, and the house has to have a huge yard for the kids to play baseball.”

“Soccer,” Gil corrected.

“Both,” Peggy offered. “And you’ll finish medical school and be a successful doctor.”

Gil nodded.

“What field of medicine?” Alex asked.

“Trauma surgery, I think. I was planning on surgery anyway, and I like the idea of being in the first line of defense.”

“Adrenaline junkie?”

“Maybe. But I could be effective there.”

“Your trauma surgery saved my life,” John reminded him.

“With luck and Ben’s help and the grace of God, not to mention Peggy. I’d like to have a little more training before I try it again.”

“How about you, Peggy?” Herc asked. “Are you going back to school?”

“I’m not sure. I wanted to be a teacher, but with all those kids, I’d be pretty much teaching at home all the time anyway. I think I’d like that, being home with the kids, really.” She looked at Gil. “What do you think?”

“I think whatever you want to do is what you will do,” he said. “Six kids – well, seven with Katie – is enough for you to have a class at home.”

“What are you going to name all these kids?” John asked.

“Alexander, John, Hercules, Angelica, Elizabeth, and Margarita, of course,” Peggy grinned.

“We’ll need to have another one to name Gilbert,” Gil reminded her.

Peggy pretended to think it over, then said, “Okay,” and kissed him. She moved over and put her head in his lap.

“All right, who’s next?” Gil asked, looking around. At least they were smiling now. “John, how about you? What are you going to be doing?”

“I’ll finish school and get my degree,” John said, “and then I’d really like to get into illustrating children’s books. I love doing stuff for kids, and there are so many ways to use your imagination with kids’ books. They don’t care if you make the kangaroo pink or if the pigeon is wearing glasses. I’d like to be able to create characters visually for them.”

“That is so cool,” Eliza said. “I knew you wanted a career in art, but you never talked about doing kids’ books. That’s perfect for you.”

John looked embarrassed and mumbled a thank you.

“Where are you going to live?” Peggy asked him.

He shrugged. “New York, maybe. A city for sure, though. You guys can have the big old house on the hill. I’m living some place I can get pizza delivery.”

“Oh, pizza,” sighed Angelica.

“Okay, you go next then, Angelica,” John said. “You want pizza delivery too?”

“Most definitely,” Angelica told them. “I’ll finish college, of course, and then I’ll be in New York or maybe DC working for the mayor or a member of Congress, getting some experience before I run for office myself.”

“All right, Senator Schuyler!” Herc cheered.

“I probably won’t actually start in the Senate,” Angelica went on, “but that’s the goal – or at least one of the goals.”

“Higher office?” Alex asked.

“Maybe. I’m not going to be a spectator in my own country. You aren’t either, are you?”

“No.” Alex shook his head. “I don’t know about running for office, though. I see myself more behind the scenes, writing proposals and speeches, doing research, drafting bills.”

“Advisor to the President?” Angelica asked.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Well, I’m voting for Angelica,” John said, “and Alex can write all her speeches.”

“I get to edit, though,” Angelica negotiated.

“Oh, no,” Alex protested, “nobody cuts my copy.”

“Damn, all your speeches will be four hours long,” John told her.

Alex pushed John over, but since they were all sitting on mattresses, John didn’t mind.

“Herc, what about you?” Angelica asked.

“I’ll go back to school like John, finish my degree. Then I want to work on designing my own fabrics, using lots of colors. I’ve been thinking about designs that borrow from stained glass, lots of geometric shapes and saturated colors. I’m not that interested in fashion fabrics, more in interior design.”

“Oh, would you design some fabrics for our house?” Peggy asked.

“Sure, which room?”

“Let’s start with Katie’s room. Katie, what do you want in your room when we move to our big house?”

Katie looked up sleepily. “Purple,” she said.

“Anything else?” Herc asked.

“Can it have terkles?”

“Purple terkles?”

Katie nodded enthusiastically.

“I’ll work on that,” Herc promised.

“Eliza, you’re the last one,” Gil said. “Still planning on being a lawyer?”

“More than ever,” Eliza said. “Think of all the people who were mistreated and lost everything under King’s administration. They’re going to need someone to fight for them and get them some sort of reparations.”

“That is an overwhelming prospect,” Alex commented.

“I know,” Eliza said, “but that’s what I’m doing.”

“You’ll be so good at that,” Peggy told her. “You really care about people. You’ll make things right for them.”

“I hope so,” her sister said. She looked around. “You know, we’re a pretty interesting bunch of people.”

Alex nodded. “I’m proud to know you all.” He turned to Gil. “Thanks,” he said.

“For what?”

_“Merci de nous avoir fait discuter un peu. Ça fait du bien.”_

_“Il faut jamais oublier qu’on est amis d’abord,”_ Gil smiled.

“Who’s going to get up and turn off the lights?” Angelica asked.

“I nominate Alex,” Eliza said, and got agreement from everyone except, of course, Alex.

“My feet will get cold, and then I’ll put them on your back,” he reminded Eliza.

“I hate you,” she told him, getting up. She turned off the lights and stumbled back to her mattress, tripping over somebody who sounded like Angelica. In the dark, she snuggled down between John and Alex, her head against John’s shoulder and Alex’s arms around her.

“You don’t, though,” Alex whispered. “You love me.” He couldn’t see her, but he knew she was smiling. He stretched his arm a little farther and pulled John in, feeling Eliza sigh and go soft and pliant between them. Things couldn’t be bad when you could sleep with the two people you loved best in the world. He nuzzled Eliza’s neck and kissed the soft spot right below her ear.

“Yeah,” she murmured, “I do, I do, I do.”

* * * * *

It took a week for the daytime high temperature to get above freezing, but they had managed to get through it. It helped when they moved the mattresses back into the bedrooms, so they weren’t literally on top of each other. Tony and Jack hiked up because they needed to get out of their cabin too.

“Molly and I were fighting,” Jack admitted. “We never fight.”

“It wasn’t a lot of fun here either,” Angelica told them. “I mean, Eliza actually yelled at Alex.”

“Wow, that’s bad,” Tony said.

“We’re good, though,” Alex assured him. “Do you know how the roads are?”

“They’re clear,” Jack said, “and the drive to the road is just slushy during the day. No problem if we take the SUV.”

“Are you up for going tomorrow?” Alex asked. “Desi wants to know when you’re coming because she has something for you. She says she’s feeling fine but can use her pregnancy to take a day off whenever she wants.”

Angelica laughed. “She’s honest about it.”

“Desi is our strongest ally in Philadelphia right now,” Alex reminded her. “She’s got connections in all kinds of places.”

“I know,” Angelica said, “and I like her. Oh, and that reminds me, Eliza needs you guys to get some white and pink yarn.”

Jack gave her a pained look. “I don't want the responsibility of picking out the right yarn,” he confessed.

“Don’t worry,” Gil said. “I’ll talk to Eliza and see exactly what she needs. Where are we going, anyway, Alex?”

“Walmart, I’m afraid,” Alex told him, “and you’re going to have to use the Deplo ID’s. We need food in quantity and the cards I can load with the highest amounts are for Walmart.”

“Don’t forget I’m doing your hair,” Angelica put in.

“How could I?” Gil asked. “My wife thinks it’s hilarious.”

“Okay, we’re good for tomorrow, then? Jack, get up here by nine. I’ll get word to Desi and give you the meet time. Then go get food and yarn and hopefully coffee.”

When Jack arrived the next morning promptly at nine, Angelica was just finishing Gil’s corn rows. Peggy was watching and shaking her head.

“Sorry, Ange,” she said, “but I don’t like it much.”

“I don’t either,” Angelica told her, “but this isn’t about how flattering the style is; it’s about making Gil less recognizable.”

Peggy looked at Gil sadly. “I miss your curls,” she said.

“They’ll be back tonight,” Gil assured her. “At least Alex didn’t suggest that I shave my head.”

“I just didn’t think of it,” Alex smiled. “Okay, you guys are meeting Desi between eleven and twelve. She’ll be sending something back with you. I don’t know what it is, since we have to be very vague in texts. Whatever it is, bring it back. Be careful. The thing with the Shippen girl was a fluke, but we can’t get over confidant. We’ll see you tonight.”

Gil jammed his watch cap down over the corn rows, and they drove through the slush out to the road and then on to the city.

“Jesus!” Jack muttered as they pulled into Desi’s neighborhood, “we’ll be lucky if nobody calls the Greaters just based on how we look. We should have brought the van and had John put some kind of plumber logo or something on it.”

“Good idea, I agree,” Gil said, “but too late now. Let’s just hope everybody in the neighborhood is at work. The car is all right, anyway. Be glad we didn’t bring the Kia.”

Jack pulled the SUV all the way to the end of the driveway so that it would be less visible from the street. Desi must have been watching for them because she met them at the door.

Introductions were made quickly. Jack’s ID said Jason Walker, so that’s how Desi would know him. Gil let Jack take the lead in conversation, trying to prevent Desi from hearing his accent. She took their coats and had just poured coffee when Burr came in.

“These are James and Sandra’s friends, Gilbert and Jason,” Desi said. “I think you should talk to them.”

Burr shook hands punctiliously before he spoke. “Did James explain to you about bypass shipments?” he asked.

Jack looked questioningly at Gil, who shook his head, then turned back to Burr. “No,” he said, “but everything we do is need-to-know only.”

“That makes sense,” Burr nodded. “For that reason, I won’t go into details, but when you see James, tell him that we opened a bypass shipment, removed what was in it, then refilled it with random items of the same weight and sent it on its way. Tell him that the opening and resealing were done very carefully and that it’s unlikely that anyone will be able to figure out exactly where in the chain of shipment that the exchange occurred.” He handed Jack a small box, about six inches square and three inches deep. “This is what was in the bypass shipment. I don’t know if you want to open it now or wait until you give it to James.”

“I won’t say I’m not curious,” Jack admitted with a smile, “but I’m pretty sure I don’t need to know at this point, so I’ll just say thank you. It sounds to me like you may have taken some risks to get this, and I want you to know that we all appreciate it.”

Burr nodded and said, “We’re grateful to you for what you’re doing too.”

“I don’t know how much news you’re able to get where you are,” Desi said. “Some things have been happening that I think you need to be aware of. A couple of weeks ago, there was an alert out that a wanted seditionist had been seen here in the city. That’s not all that unusual – there are a lot of people that King calls seditionists, so the alerts happen pretty often. This one was for Angelica Schuyler, though, and James had mentioned her, so I thought you should know. Then there was also a denial of the sighting from the same source because Angelica Schuyler is supposed to be dead.” She spread her hands and shrugged. “I know better than to believe anything coming from King’s administration, but now they’re even contradicting their own news stories.”

“We’ll pass that information along to James,” Gil said, not betraying by the flicker of an eyelash that the alive and dangerous/dead Angelica Schuyler had been braiding his hair a few hours ago.

“There was another news story about Boston,” Burr added. “Some explosions in the port area are being blamed on seditionists. According to the news channel, there wasn’t much damage, but several innocent bystanders, mostly the elderly and small children, had been killed. I don’t know how explosions that cause very little damage can kill fifteen people, but that was the story.”

“Any idea on what might actually have happened?” Jack asked.

“I think it’s likely there was an explosion,” Burr replied. “They’d have to make some public statement to explain that. My guess is there was more damage than they want to admit, and much less loss of life, if any.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right. I don’t know what elderly people and children would be doing in the port area,” Jack agreed.

“My conclusions exactly,” Burr said. “You’d think with the salaries they get, King’s tame news stations could do better.”

“Is any news outlet not state-controlled?” Gil asked, coughing on the last word to avoid trying to pronounce the impossible r.

Desi shook her head. “There are supposedly two news channels, but they’re exactly the same, just different people. No more local media stations, so only minimal coverage of local news. All in the name of ‘national security,’ of course. You remember when some of the local stations stopped using feeds from the national outlets because they couldn’t trust them. That was the beginning of the end of local stations. We get lots of entertainment channels, though,” she added with a fake smile.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind seeing a movie now and then,” Jack told her.

“You might, if you saw what we had to choose from,” Desi said. “No films that might encourage ‘seditionist thinking,’ which covers everything from _Casablanca_ to _Erin Brockovich_ , nothing that might violate cultural norms, so eliminated _West Side Story_ and all the _Star Wars_ films, and …”

“Wait, wait,” Jack broke in. “King banned _Star Wars?_ What the hell?”

Burr nodded. “Too many women in positions of authority and something about ‘sexual ambiguity.’”

“Forget what I said then. I’m not going to bother with a movie channel if the only thing I can watch is _Sound of Music_.”

Desi shook her head. “Banned,” she told him. “The characters defy their legal government. Worse, Rolf is derelict in his duty in not reporting them. Bad examples all around.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Unfortunately, we are,” Burr said. “King’s administration is coming down harder and harder on smaller and smaller offenses. I think maybe King is getting nervous, thinks if he keeps tightening things up, he’ll be more secure, but the fact is, it causes more resentment.”

“That may help us,” Jack said.

“That’s what I think,” Burr agreed. “I hope the package we gave you is helpful too.”

“I’m sure it will be,” Jack said. “Thank you very much for everything you’ve done.”

“We have something else, too,” Desi said. “I know James reloads gift cards and credit cards, so I have some he can use.” She got a handful of cards from the desk. “Here, these all have between ten and fifty dollars on them, and more can be added. I hope they help you get some things that you need.”

“You’re very kind to us. I hope you know how much we appreciate it.”

“It’s for our baby,” Desi said, smiling. Burr put his arm around her.

“A little girl, isn’t it?” Gil asked.

Desi nodded. “Yes, and I think she’ll be spoiled by her daddy.”

“Does she have a name yet?”

“Maybe,” Desi replied.

“Yes,” said Burr at the same time, and they both laughed.

“Aaron wants to name her after me,” Desi explained, “and I think that’s okay. It’s an old family name, so it’s nice to carry on the tradition, but we can’t decide on a nickname.”

“Desi is a nickname?”

“Mm-hmm, it’s short for Theodosia.”

“That is a long name for a small baby,” Gil smiled.

“I think we should call her Theo,” Burr put in, but Desi wrinkled her nose.

“I like Teddie better,” she said.

“And that’s where it stands for now,” Burr said with a laugh. “We probably won’t decide until after she’s born.”

“You know, it’s nice to have something happy to look forward to right now,” Jack said. “I hope I get a chance to meet little Theo or Teddie when she arrives.”

“So do I,” Desi told him. Burr shook hands again, and they said goodbye.

They put the new cards and the box Burr had given them in the lock box and went to do the shopping. The shelves weren’t as full as they had been last time, and there was less of a selection. There was almost no fresh food and what there was looked as if it had been sitting there for days, so they opted for more dry and canned stuff as usual. Gil was happy to find some canned peaches and applesauce, but there was no sugar available. When they’d stocked up on food, he went to look for the yarn that Eliza had requested. She wanted to be sure she had enough, so they were going to purchase it rather than try to steal it.

“What’s a skein?” Gil asked Jack.

“A what?”

“Skeen? Skine?” He showed Jack the scrap of paper on which Eliza had written, _4 skeins white, 1 skein pale pink baby yarn._

“Oh, it’s pronounced _skane_ ,” Jack said. “My mom used to knit, so I’ve heard it before.”

“English is a ridiculous language,” Gil muttered.

They found themselves in the sewing department, and Gil stared unhappily at the yarn.

“Do you want me to get it?” Jack asked.

“Please,” Gil said. “I don’t know which one is a skein, and Eliza was very firm about pale pink, not bright pink, and I’m not sure I know the difference.”

“Herc should have come.”

“He’d be better at this,” Gil agreed, leaning close to the yarn counter and slipping a few skeins into his pockets.

They checked out with no trouble as usual and were back at the cabin before dark. Jack came in with Gil, hopeful that he would find out what was in the box from Burr.

“Go get Tony,” Alex told him. “If this is what I think it is, you guys need to know.”

While they waited, Gil gave Eliza the white and pink baby yarn that they had paid for, as well as the blue, gray, and brown that he had stolen.

“That’s a pretty shade of blue,” Eliza said. “You should have stolen more than one skein.”

“And that’s a question I have for you,” Gil said, sounding quite annoyed. “Why is that word not spelled s-k-a-n-e?”

“I have no idea.”

“English is ridiculous,” Gil complained. “There are no spelling rules.”

“That’s not completely true,” Alex told him. “There’s ‘i before e except after c or when sounded like a as in neighbor and weigh, with eight exceptions’.”

“That is not a rule,” Gil objected. “How can a thing with two conditions and eight exceptions be a rule?”

“Sorry, that’s the best I can do,” Alex shrugged. “I suppose French is easier to spell, now that I think about it.”

_“Mais bien sûr! Le français est logique!”_

“How about some tea?” Peggy intervened, handing him a cup.

“I don’t know how you want to be a teacher,” Gil told his wife. “English spelling is a torture for little children.”

“Okay, but we all survived. Do you think maybe you’re overreacting a little, _chéri?_ You’re starting to sound like Alex when he goes on a rant.”

Alex and Gil looked at each other.

“I don’t rant,” Alex said, and everybody laughed.

Gil smiled at Peggy. “You’re right, _chérie_. It’s just frustrating not to know how to say something when I see it.”

“Just say it in French,” Peggy advised him. “Everything sounds nicer in French.”

Tony and Jack came in then, so Gil had to drink his tea and calm down, but Peggy was sure it wouldn’t be the last time she heard that French was a superior language to English.

Alex had requested and received permission from Headquarters to bring Tony’s squad up to speed on the possibility that Burr and Desi might be able to recover some confiscated property. He was pretty sure that’s what he was going to find in the box, but he was waiting to open it until Tony was there. Headquarters had agreed that since they were all dealing with Burr and Desi at various times, both squads should be current on what they knew about bypass shipments. They all gathered around the table, and Alex gave them a brief explanation.

“So that box probably has somebody’s confiscated property in it?” John asked, his face grim.

“Probably,” Alex told him. “I don’t think Burr would have sent it if he didn’t think that was likely. Headquarters thinks King is trying to sell more and more confiscated property overseas. He needs money, and that’s a relatively easy way for him to get it.”

“Makes me sick,” John muttered, and Eliza took his hand.

“All of us, John. It’s one more heartless thing that King has done.”

“Okay” Alex continued, “I feel like I ought to make some big announcement, but I’m just going to take the lid off the box and see what’s here.”

Everything in the box was carefully wrapped in tissue paper, and Alex took his time unwrapping each item. When he was finished, there was a small group of six pieces on the table: a gold brooch in the shape of a spray of flowers, with small diamonds set in the center of each flower; an ornate sterling silver spoon engraved with the initial B; a man’s gold ring set with a single large round emerald; a platinum Art Déco style engagement ring with one large and two small diamonds; and finally, two pieces that were obviously a set for a child, a little gold bracelet set with an amethyst, and an even smaller ring with a matching stone.

Eliza picked up the child’s bracelet and examined it, tears filling her eyes. “Look,” she said, and showed the rest of them what was engraved inside: _to Emma with Love from Mommy & Daddy._

“I wonder where Emma is now,” Eliza said, and broke down completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headquarters has a list of known confiscated property. Maybe some of this can be returned to its rightful owners.  
> On another topic, I totally agree with Gil about English spelling.


	26. Assume You’re the Smartest in the Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex communicates with Headquarters to talk to a man about a dog. Everybody learns a code. Elsewhere, there's a breakdown of communication.

Alex spent most of the next day trying to communicate their findings to Headquarters, but given that he had to obscure all details, he met with nothing but frustration. Furthermore, there was no way he could safely send the confiscated items so that they might be returned to their owners. By dinner time, his patience had been exhausted, and he was talking about just getting in a car the next morning and driving to Headquarters.

“Talk to Tony,” Gil suggested. “Maybe he’ll have some suggestions.”

“I doubt if Tony is going to come up with something I haven’t already considered,” Alex snapped. “I am so fucking tired of not being able to get clear lines of communication open. God only knows what’s going to happen with Dolphin if we can’t even talk to one another.”

“Aren’t there coded ways …” began Angelica, but Alex cut her off.

“No! For about the five hundredth time, we don’t have Enigma machines or Windtalkers or fucking secret handshakes. We have to assume that every phone conversation is monitored, so for there to be any communication, both parties have to be on the same page. I can’t tell anybody at Headquarters about the jewelry because they don’t know anything about Burr and Desi checking the bypass shipments.”

“Alex, you know more about words than anybody else I know,” Eliza said. “If anybody can figure out a way to communicate safely, it will be you.”

Alex fell suddenly silent, his eyes bright. “Wait, wait, wait,” he said, waving his hand at them, although nobody was saying anything. He looked around distractedly and said, “I need a pencil and paper,” and when John handed them to him, he sat down and started scribbling. After a few minutes, he called Gil over and started speaking to him in rapid French that none of them could follow.

After a few minutes, John shrugged and said, “Well, we’re going to want dinner whether Alex has figured this out or not, so I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Herc and Peggy followed him in, along with Katie who wanted to help measure something.

“Did you get any of that?” Herc asked Peggy.

“Nothing,” she said, “except maybe something about a dog? But that makes no sense at all, so I’m probably wrong. And I thought I heard Gil say Frédérique, like the name, but I’m not sure about that either.”

John lifted Katie up onto the counter and gave her the measuring cup, then poured rice into it while she held it carefully. “Good job, Katie girl!” he said, as she dumped the rice into the pot. “Does Gil know anybody named Fred?” he asked Peggy, filling the measuring cup for the second time.

“Not that I know of,” she said, “but he probably knows hundreds of people that I’ve never heard of. And anyway, I can’t see that some guy named Fred is going to help Alex communicate with Headquarters.”

“True,” John agreed, swinging Katie down from the counter. “Maybe they’re going to speak French as a code.”

“Yeah, that would work, because nobody else in this hemisphere could understand them,” Angelica commented, rolling her eyes as she entered the kitchen and heard what he said. “You know somebody is likely to be monitoring every conversation, and they can record anything questionable, so if they hear French, they’ll record it, then play it for somebody who speaks French, and voilà, the code is broken.”

“Too bad none of us speaks some really obscure language,” Herc said. “Why didn’t anybody study Hungarian or Comanche?”

“The fact is, none of us learned another language by studying it,” Angelica admitted. “Gil and Alex grew up speaking French, and John and Alex grew up speaking Spanish. I mean, Eliza and Peggy and I took French in school, but we didn’t learn much. Peggy’s pretty good at it now, but that’s because of Gil.”

“John, how did you grow up speaking Spanish in South Carolina?” Peggy asked, and John looked embarrassed.

“Well, you know about my family, right?” he responded. “My parents were busy, what with work and their social lives, so we didn’t see them much. Ana and Manuel Morales, the housekeeper and the gardener, pretty much raised us. At home, we kids heard Spanish more than we heard English. I was more comfortable with Spanish than English until I started school. My dad hated hearing us speak it, so that was just motivation for me to learn more. Then I took it in high school to be sure I could read and write as well as speak it, and now it’s just as easy for me to speak Spanish as English. I don’t much around here because the only one who understands it is Alex, but we do sometimes, just for fun.” He blushed a little at that and let them draw their own conclusions.

“Well, I hope whatever Alex is babbling about now will be helpful,” Angelica said. “If we have confiscated property, there has to be a way to get it to headquarters so it can be returned to its owners.”

By the time they gathered around the table for dinner, Alex appeared quite satisfied with himself.

“I think I’ve figured something out,” he announced and waited till they looked suitably impressed.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Herc said, and continued in a fake-awed voice. “Wow, Alex, you must be a genius! What did you figure out, you brilliant man?”

Even Alex had to laugh at that. He took a mouthful of rice and beans and swallowed it before he spoke. “You guys remember Dr. Barron at Columbia, right? He taught Poli Sci, specialized in the history of nationalism, politics of justice, that sort of thing.”

“Oh, sure,” said Angelica, who had also been a Poli Sci major. “I had him for Judicial Politics my sophomore year and then again for Nationalism and Cosmopolitanism my junior year. He was a great teacher, not easy, but really interesting. He left during my junior year, though.”

“Right,” Alex agreed. “He was forced out of the university because of his politics, like all the professors who didn’t follow King’s party line. It was a shame, because he was such an excellent teacher. Anyway, I don’t know if you knew, but he grew up in Switzerland, near Geneva, so he spoke French. In fact, he spoke five or six languages, but one time he said something in French, and I happened to answer him, and after that we usually spoke French with one another if we happened to see each other on campus. No big deal, but I used to see him out walking his dog sometimes, and we’d chat. I got to know him pretty well. Good guy.”

“Are you going anywhere with the professor and his dog?” John asked. “I’m just asking because I thought we were talking about getting information to Headquarters.”

“Stay with me,” Alex said. “This is background.”

“Okay.”

“The dog was a cute little thing, kind of fluffy.” Alex paused dramatically. “Its name was Bijou.”

Peggy and Gil at least looked enlightened.

“Okay,” Peggy said, “I get the vocabulary, but I don’t see how that helps.”

“You should tell everybody what _bijou_ means in French,” Alex suggested.

“Jewel,” Peggy announced.

“So, let me see now,” Eliza said. “We have some jewelry that is clearly confiscated property, and your former professor had a dog named Bijou, which means _jewel_ in French, and somehow that helps you communicate with Headquarters so they can hopefully return the jewelry to its rightful owners.”

“Yes,” Alex confirmed, “because I’ve deliberately left out the piece of information that ties it all together.” He helped himself to more rice and beans, smiling widely.

Gil, who apparently knew what he was talking about, rolled his eyes. _“Quel frimeur,”_ he said.

 _“Et pourquoi pas?”_ Alex asked rhetorically.

“So please, dear Alex, will you now share with us that important piece of information?” Angelica requested, half annoyed, half amused.

“I will. That information is that Professor Frederick Barron is now an advisor to General Akhdir at Headquarters.”

This statement didn’t have quite the impact he expected it to. “You don’t get it?” he asked, disappointed.

“Um, are you going to call Headquarters and talk to Dr. Barron about his dog, or what?” Herc asked.

“Yes! I’m going to tell him that we’ve found his lost dog.”

“What if his dog isn’t lost?” John asked.

“I’m not talking about the actual dog,” Alex reminded him, getting frustrated again that nobody could keep up with his mental pace. “I’m going to be talking about lost jewelry, and using the dog as a metaphor because its name is Bijou. He’ll get it.”

“You’re sure about that?” Angelica asked skeptically. “It sound like quite a stretch.”

“Does this make more sense in French, Gil?” Peggy asked her husband.

“Maybe a little,” Gil said, “Alex will make a point of speaking French in the conversation, but he will not say the name of the dog. Dr. Barron of course knows the name of the dog, so he will make the association.”

“You hope,” John muttered.

Gil shrugged. “It’s at least a possibility.”

“So when are you going to call?” Angelica asked.

“I’m going to text the General’s office tonight and say that I need to speak to Dr. Barron. Hopefully, he’ll call in the morning.” Alex was getting cranky now, since there hadn’t been even one word of admiration for his ingenious plan. “Do we have any dessert?” he asked plaintively.

John laughed. “As a matter of fact, we’re going to open a can of peaches,” he said. “Hope you enjoy them.”

When they were served, Alex poked at them with his spoon. “Not enough sugar,” he complained.

It was time for Eliza to take him in hand. “Alex,” she said gently, “you know how lucky we are to have them at all. Your attitude is not helpful.”

Alex looked up and smiled at her. “I have to be a grown-up again, don’t I?” he asked.

She nodded, and Alex ate his peaches.

They had just finished breakfast the next morning when one of Alex’s phones rang. He picked it up and answered, _“Allô?”_

There was brief pause, and then he continued in French, _“Quel plaisir d’entendre votre voix, Monsieur.”_

The conversation went on for quite a while and Peggy, listening closely, was able to understand some of it. She made out a reference to a lost dog, but not enough to follow everything the way Gil evidently was, as he sat attentively, his eyes on Alex.

By the time Alex hung up, they were all waiting, and Alex was smiling.

“I told you Dr. Barron would get it,” he said.

“How much did he get?” Gil asked.

“Enough,” Alex replied with a grin. “He’s sending someone down to pick up his dog.”

* * * * *

It was two days later when the courier drove up in a very old battered Volkswagen. They met him, guns drawn, and he slowly exited the car, hands in the air.

“I’m here about the professor’s dog,” he said, and Alex gave the signal to lower the guns.

He was very young, with dark hair, bright blue eyes, and freckles. “My name’s Zach,” he told them when they were inside, as he looked from one of them to another. His eyes paused on Peggy. “I’ve seen you before,” he said, frowning.

Peggy stared at him. “Do you have a sister named Bethany?” she asked, her voice trembling.

He nodded.

“You came over on your bike,” Peggy said. “You brought me her ID.”

“Yes!” he exclaimed “You were at the Millers’ house.” He looked at her, and she saw his jaw tighten. “We never knew what happened to you. It was like you disappeared. We … we thought you’d been caught.”

“No,” Peggy assured him. “My friends hid me.” She introduced her sisters and her husband and everyone else to him, crying a little.

“It was because of you that I joined the Movement as soon as I turned seventeen,” Zach said. “My sister’s in it too, in New York City, and my parents are still working underground in Albany.”

“The Millers?” Peggy asked shakily.

“They’re okay,” he said. “Jim and Val were taken in for questioning after you got away, but they acted like they had no idea what was going on, and they let them go after a couple of days. Amanda’s fine, too. She’s going to the community college. They’re all still working underground, Amanda too.” He looked around again. “I can’t believe I just met the Schuyler sisters.”

Gil put his arm around Peggy and pulled her close. “The Schuyler sisters are famous?” he asked.

“Yeah, kind of,” Zach said. “The big question is always if they’re alive and hiding out somewhere or if they’re really dead. Now I know. The thing is, I can’t tell anybody, but I’m glad I know. I’m really proud to meet all of you guys.”

“Is this your first mission for the General?” Alex asked.

“I’m not really doing missions yet,” Zach admitted. “I’m officially a courier, which I guess is sort of a fancy title for an errand boy. Once I have enough training and experience, I’ll get assigned to a squad.”

“That’s more structured than it was when we started,” John commented. “We pretty much organized ourselves.”

“There are a lot more people involved now than a few years ago,” Alex said. “The Movement’s going to be very powerful soon.” He turned to Tim. “I have to ask you some questions. First, why are you here?”

Zach had clearly been briefed on the questions. “To pick up the professor’s dog.”

“And how do I know the professor?” Alex asked.

“He was your teacher for Nationalism and Cosmopolitanism at Columbia.”

“How did the professor tell you to identify me?”

“He gave me a physical description of you, which fits, and told me that wherever you were, you’d be the one in charge, which you seem to be.”

Alex smiled. “Anything else?”

“He said not to try to outsmart you, because it’s impossible.”

Alex laughed out loud at that. He invited Zach to stay for lunch, which he did, giving the Schuyler sisters a chance to ask him about old friends.

After lunch, Zach said, “I don’t know if you want to give me the professor’s dog now or later – oh, and I’m pretty sure I’m not here to get an actual dog – but there’s something else I need to give you and talk to you about.”

“Okay, let’s do that first,” Alex proposed. “Are you staying here for the night and going back in the morning?”

“I can leave in a little while and get part way back to Headquarters this afternoon.”

“And sleep in the car?” Alex asked. “It’s damn cold for that. Is the General expecting you tomorrow?”

Zach shrugged. “Not necessarily. He told me to use my best judgment.”

Alex smiled. “So this whole thing is a test of your judgment?”

“It might be,” Zach said with a rueful smile.

“How about if you sleep here tonight and leave early in the morning? It’s a long day’s drive, I know, but you’ll be better off than if you try to fold yourself up in that VW in twenty-degree weather.”

“Okay, thanks. I appreciate it.”

“You hear that, John?” Alex said. “One more for dinner and breakfast. Do we have enough dishes?”

“Yeah,” John said, “but he’ll have to use the ugly cow mug.”

Zach recognized that was an inside joke and went out to the car to get whatever it was that had been sent with him. He returned with three identical paperback copies of _Pride and Prejudice._

“Oh, I love that book!” Eliza said, grabbing one.

“I’m sure it’s a great book,” Angelica observed, “but I doubt if the General is just sending us reading material.”

“Of course not,” Alex told her, his face lit with a smile of understanding. “We’re doing a book code, right?”

“That’s it,” Zach said. “We’ve been trying to get enough copies of the same edition so that every squad could have a few. It’s taken a while but we have enough now to give out two or three to each squad.”

“What’s a book code?” John asked.

“Easiest code in the world,” Alex told him, “as long as everybody using it has the same edition of the book. Let’s say I find out that an armored car has had its schedule changed.” He paged through the book, skimming pages, and wrote down groups of numbers. Then he handed the book and the paper to Angelica and asked, “Would you like to decode this message?”

She saw _22.12.5|36.42.9|158.27.2|137.16.5|175.11.4|217.13.6_ on the paper. “Sure,” she said. “Tell me how.”

“Okay, in each group of numbers, the first is the page number, the second is the line number, and the third is the word number. Go to page twenty-two, count down twelve lines, and your word is the fifth word on that line.”

It took Angelica a few minutes to find the pages and count the lines and words, and then she read, “ _Carriage delay one day returning Tuesday._ I’m assuming _carriage_ means _car_ here, right? So you’re telling whoever gets this message that the car has been delayed by one day and is returning on Tuesday?”

Alex nodded. “Correct. There are lots of variations to make the code more complicated. You don’t worry about singular and plural or verb tense most of the time, but you can specify by adding a word like past or later. You can spell out proper nouns by using the first letters of words, or you can do an entire letter code by adding a fourth number to each series meaning the number of the letter’s placement in the word. It’s really an easy code to work with, and as long as the person you’re communicating with has an identical copy of the book.”

“It seems awfully time consuming,” Eliza said.

“Not really, and in a very short time you memorize the number code for words you use a lot. Of course, you change that up too. I’m sure the word _carriage_ appears in this book many times, so you vary the reference for it instead of always using the same one.”

“You’re going to be the one encoding messages, aren’t you?” Peggy asked.

“Mostly,” Alex replied, “but we all need to know how to do it. In an emergency, any of you should be able to text a message to Headquarters, or even to Tony. We should all practice.”

“Great,” said Herc. “We’ve got homework.”

“You’ll be glad you learned it when you need it,” Alex told him.

“That’s what my Mom always said about algebra, and she was wrong,” Herc muttered.

Even so, they all practiced a little, with Gil sending Peggy _4.7.4|5.8.6|7.29.6 (You are beautiful)_ and Peggy sending back _9.1.4|15.29.9|85.5.3 (I love you)_ , and Angelica begging them to stop being so sickeningly cute. John complained that the word _fuck_ did not seem to be anywhere in the book, and Eliza just curled up in the comfy chair and started reading.

Zach sat a little uncomfortably on one of the kitchen chairs and watched them all. Herc made a pot of tea and sat down next to him, offering him some in the ugly cow mug.

“You all knew each other before, didn’t you?” Zach asked.

Herc nodded. “I met John the first week of college, and Alex not long after that. He was handing out political flyers in front of the library. He knew Angelica and Gil, and then Angelica introduced us to Eliza, and we all just started hanging around together. Then Peggy came and Gil fell madly in love with her in about thirty seconds, so they’ve been together ever since. Oh, and we all love Katie.”

“You all act like a family,” Zach said a little wistfully.

“We are. I know they all have my back, and I have theirs. They’re my brothers and sisters. Always will be.”

“It’s not like this at Headquarters.”

“It couldn’t be,” Herc told him. “The General’s got too much responsibility to have personal relationships. With us, that’s the whole basis for us being in the Movement. When Alex got thrown out of college for being an immigrant, we all stood with him. I think a lot of the squads are like that, people who joined together for whatever reason. We’ve all got the same goal, but we’re not really a military organization.”

“But you follow the General’s orders?” Zach asked.

“Oh, yeah. A while back, there was something the General ordered that Alex really didn’t like.” Herc took a sip of his tea and decided not to mention Charlie Lee by name. “In the end, though, he did what the General said.”

“You think things are going to change soon?”

“Depends on what you mean by soon. I think more and more people are getting tired of King’s government, so there will be more and more support for change. I think we still have a ways to go, though, and it won’t be easy.”

Zach drank some of the tea and made a face. “No sugar?”

Herc just looked at him. “Don’t ask,” he advised.

Zach left early in the morning with the box of jewelry and late the next day, Alex got a coded text message from Dr. Barron saying “Thanks for the return of the dog. We are searching for its legal owner.”

They didn’t hear anything from Burr for a while, and after a couple of weeks, Alex decided to try to reach him through Grammy Nell. He texted her as usual using Eliza’s alias but got no response. He waited a few days and tried again with a different phone. After three or four attempts, he debated whether to contact Burr directly. He had been trying to avoid direct contact since he didn’t want to put Burr or Desi at risk. He paced for a while, then said, “I’m going to go into town tomorrow. I can’t get hold of Grammy Nell, and I’m a little worried. Gil, you want to go with me?”

Gil nodded. “Sure.”

“Bring your doctor stuff,” Alex told him. “Maybe she fell or something.” He started biting his lip.

“I’m sure she’s okay,” Eliza said. “Maybe she went away for a few days.”

“Really? Grammy Nell? She’s got no money and no family, where’s she going to go?”

“Okay, okay, you and Gil can go see her tomorrow.”

“I don’t like this,” Alex said, pulling Eliza to him and leaning his head on her hair.

* * * * *

They left early in the morning, Alex anxious and twitchy. There wasn’t much to talk about on the way to the city. It was still cold, and the sky was gray and leaden. It was supposed to rain later and maybe freeze overnight. Gil pulled the Kia up in front of Grammy Nell’s brick row house. Everything looked normal.

They knew it wasn’t, though, as soon as they reached the door. Alex knocked, and it swung open, not locked or latched. The smell hit them right away.

“No,” Alex said, tears starting, “no.”

They found her in the kitchen lying between the counter and the sink, only her sensibly-sneakered feet visible at first. Gil was taller and could see over the counter to where she lay. She’d been dead for several days.

“Did she fall?” Alex asked, trying to push forward, while Gil did his best to hold him back. “Was it a heart attack?”

“No,” Gil said, taking in the thick puddle of blood and the hideous wound on her head. “They killed her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex and the squad will have to find a way to deal with this.  
> For those who might wonder, all the coded messages are directly from my own paperback copy of Pride and Prejudice.


	27. What It Takes to Survive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil and Alex do what they have to do.

Alex began smashing everything he could get his hands on, pulling glasses out of the cupboards and slamming them to the floor where they shattered into a million glittering shards. Gil, six inches taller and thirty pounds heavier, wrapped his arms around him and wrestled him, screaming and cursing, into a chair.

 _“Arrête!”_ Gil yelled, holding onto him to keep him in place. _“Calme-toi, Alex, sois tranquil!”_

“She was just a nice old lady,” Alex sobbed. “How could anybody do this?”

Gil was a realist. “She was a black-market dealer and a fence,” he pointed out.

“Fuck you, Gil,” Alex said, struggling to get up. “Why do you have to say that?”

Gil shook him. “Because that’s why she’s dead, Alex. She got in somebody’s way.”

“Somebody reported her to the Greaters,” Alex muttered.

 _“Non, c’est pas la police qui a fait cette saloperie._ The Greaters would have made a show of arresting her, taking her out of her house in handcuffs, making sure everyone knew that their form of justice was being served. This is private.”

Alex swiped his sleeve across his face like a little kid. “You think? Really?”

 _“C’est sûr._ This happened a few days ago. Nobody has been here since. Nobody else knows yet.”

Gil was thinking, and for once his brain was working faster than Alex’s. He tentatively let go of Alex and sat back in the chair, looking around the kitchen. “We have to clean up,” he said.

“What?”

“We have to clean up in here. And we have to bury her.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Alex, listen to me. We can’t help Grammy Nell. It’s too late for her, but look around. There are things in this house that we can use.”

Alex’s jaw dropped. “My God, you cold-blooded bastard,” he snapped, standing up and drawing back his fist.

Gil caught his arm almost lazily. “Shut up and listen to me,” he said. “There is not a thing in this fucking house that will do Grammy Nell any good. She has no family. There is no one who will inherit what she had. Is it better to let everything sit here until it rots or until the Greaters find it and sell her property off to enrich King and his Haves? Wouldn’t Grammy Nell want to help us one last time if she could?”

“Fuck you,” Alex muttered, but he was thinking. “Fuck you and your goddam French pragmatism.”

Gil raised an eyebrow at him and waited.

“You’re sure there’s no family?” Alex asked.

“How many times did she say that? She had one sister who died years ago, and no kids. You think if she had anybody who cared about her that she would have been making a living the way she did? We were the closest thing to a family that she had.”

Alex looked around the kitchen, Grammy Nell’s body cold and still on the floor, broken glass everywhere, and his eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know if I can, Gil,” he whispered.

“Don’t be stupid, Alex,” Gil said impatiently. “We do this for the Movement. For the future.”

Alex finally nodded. “I’ll text Angelica,” he said. “Tell her we’re delayed.”

“At least until tomorrow,” Gil told him.

Alex frowned. “What?”

“We’ll have to bury her at night.” Another point of practicality.

Alex pulled his copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ out of his pocket and counted lines and words to tell Angelica that they would be back in a day or two and would explain then what had happened. He told her they were safe, but said nothing about Grammy Nell. They would all worry back at the cabin, but it was the best he could do for now.

Gil locked the front door and made sure all the curtains and blinds were closed. The battered Kia had been parked in front of the house often enough that it was unlikely to draw attention. He opened the back door and stepped out into the tiny plot of lawn behind the row house. There was a sagging shed in the corner of the yard, some straggly plants across the back that might have been flowers during the summer, and a few square feet of pavers around the back door. At least it hadn’t been concreted over like so many of the back yards in the neighborhood. The fence was cinder block that had once been painted white, but it was six feet high and sturdy. Gil walked back to the shed and opened the door. There were some lawn tools lined up along the wall – a leaf rake, a snow shovel, a spade – and a shelf of odds and ends like wasp spray and plant fertilizer, along with some flower pots. He left everything as it was and walked back to the door, looking around as he did so. The yard was probably visible from a few neighbors’ windows, but there was no reason why the neighbors would be looking out their windows in the middle of the night. They could make it work. He went back in and locked the door behind him. Alex was still sitting in the kitchen chair.

“Come on,” Gil said. “You start sweeping up the broken glass.”

Alex looked up and nodded, a final tear making its way down his cheek. Gil fought back his own emotions and stooped down in front of Alex, keeping his knees away from the shards of glass on the floor.

“We can’t both fall apart at the same time,” he said.

“Where have I heard that before?” Alex asked with the ghost of a smile.

“From yourself,” Gil reminded him. “More than once. We can do this.”

“We will do what it takes to survive,” Alex conceded. He stood up and took off his coat. “It’s cold in here.”

“Mm-hm,” Gil agreed. “They turned off the heat so that it would take longer for her to be discovered. Let’s keep it off for now.”

Alex, who hated the cold passionately, nodded. Whatever it took to survive. He opened doors until he found the tiny broom closet and started to sweep up the broken glass into a dustpan. He dumped it into a paper shopping bag that had been stored with the mops and brooms. They would have to bury the debris as well as Grammy Nell’s body.

In another cupboard Gil found an old tarp that had obviously been used as a drop cloth for many paint jobs. With a great deal of difficulty, they wrapped Grammy Nell’s body in it and carefully carried it into the front room. Once the glass was bagged, they went to work on cleaning up the blood, a sickening task. They used every rag and dishcloth in the kitchen, and then went over the floor with a scrub brush and detergent, bagging up everything they had used. Once that was done, they felt like maybe the worst was over.

“I’ll look down here, you look upstairs?” Alex suggested, and Gil agreed.

He went upstairs and began searching the bedrooms. Grammy Nell had lived in this house since long before the insurrection. It was obvious, though, that she must have sold off most of her possessions before she turned to black market dealing to survive. One bedroom was completely empty, the closet bare, the walls showing faded squares where pictures had once hung. The other was Grammy Nell’s, the bed neatly made, the shabby dresser holding her cheap socks and underclothes. Gil went through the dresser drawers carefully, hating every minute of it and finding nothing unexpected.

In the top drawer of the nightstand beside the bed, he found a partially used bottle of aspirin and a few books. He took a pillow case off the bed and dropped the aspirin into it. One of the books was a Bible and one was a prayer book. Grammy Nell had continued to believe in the face of everything. He stared at them for a while, remembering childhood Bible story lessons, and then left them in the drawer. He was looking for useful things.

The second drawer held tissues, old-fashioned handkerchiefs, a pen, and a writing tablet with a few blank pages still left. He put them all in the pillow case. The closet held the rest of Grammy Nell’s simple wardrobe, comfortable pants and shirts and, in the back, a few things that she had probably held onto in the hope of seeing better times – a navy blue dress, a white blouse with delicate lace trim, a dark red velvet skirt that might once have been worn to a Christmas party. He took a few of the solid color sweatshirts – he knew that Peggy and her sisters would never want to wear the ones with the butterflies and kittens that were so characteristic of Grammy Nell – and the better quality pieces because he knew Herc would be able to remake them into usable things.

There were boxes on the shelf of the closet. He pulled them all out and sat on the floor to open them. The first held Grammy Nell’s small store of Christmas decorations: a string of lights and a handful of ornaments, some red ribbon, a plastic candle with a light bulb in it. Tucked down behind them was a folded piece of paper that he opened carefully and recognized. It was a red scribble in a vague heart shape with a wobbly K at the bottom of the page. A note from Katie that Peggy had brought here a while ago. It overwhelmed him, and he sat staring blindly at Grammy Nell’s pathetic treasures, cursing King and the Greaters and the evil they had brought on millions of ordinary people like Grammy Nell.

He left everything on the floor and went back downstairs. Alex was looking through the kitchen cupboards. “There’s coffee,” he said.

Gil nodded. “Yes.”

“And sugar,” Alex added tentatively. “Quite a lot of sugar.”

Gil nodded again. “We should probably eat something if we’re going to have sugar.”

Alex gestured toward the counter where he had already put out two cans of soup and a box of crackers. “There’s a piece of cheese in the fridge,” he said.

Gil sat down at the table but didn’t say anything, and Alex found a saucepan and a can opener and put the soup on the stove. “I turned the heat back on,” he said, watching Gil’s face.

“Okay.”

“Gil?”

“Yeah, I’m all right.”

“What did you find?” Alex asked.

“Something Katie made for her.” His eyes filled and he wiped them impatiently. _“Ah, merde!”_

Alex came up behind him and put his arms around him, leaning down to kiss his cheek. Gil grasped his hand and smiled a little. “Don’t try that stuff with me, _pédé,_ ” he murmured. It was an old joke between them.

“You know I’ll never give up,” Alex said, although they both knew he had given up years ago.

 _“Je t’aime quand même,”_ Gil said, and kissed his hand gently.

_“Oui, je sais. Je t’aime aussi, mon cher ami.”_

“Don't let the soup burn."

Alex dropped one more kiss on his hair and went to get their lunch. The soup and crackers followed by hot sweet coffee helped, and Gil felt like he could go back upstairs.

"You know I hate this as much as you do, right?" he said to Alex.

Alex nodded. "What's not to hate? It's not something I ever thought we'd be doing."

Gil put Katie's note in his pocket and shoved the box of Christmas decorations back onto the shelf. The second box was full of old photos and a few letters. A picture of a younger Grammy Nell standing in front of this house, dressed for church, maybe an Easter thirty years ago; a black and white snapshot of two little girls on the beach. He turned it over and saw written neatly on the back _Nancy and Nell, Ocean City, 1956_ ; another one of the same two little girls in front of a Christmas tree. He studied their faces, trying to figure out which one was Grammy Nell, but he couldn't tell. A high school prom picture with a recognizable Nell in a pink gown and bouffant hairstyle, her prom date looking very serious; another of her with the same boy in an Army uniform. A couple of letters with a return APO address. A newspaper clipping reporting the death of Corporal Lonnie Johnson at the Battle of Khe Sanh.

He stopped looking and put the box back. It was too sad.

The last box was full of papers: a birth certificate for Eleanor Bronkowski, born April 16, 1950, at Hahnemann Hospital, Philadelphia. So that was Grammy Nell's real name. The deed for the house, property tax records. Homeowner’s insurance policy, medical records, a death certificate for Nancy Bronkowski Evans, born 1947, died 2003.

No life insurance. No will. No mention anywhere of Nancy having any children. As Grammy Nell had told them, she had no family.

He left everything as it was, and went on to the small linen closet. There was a good blanket and two sets of sheets that they could use, along with the bedding from Grammy Nell’s room. He’d have to find a box for those. There were towels, shampoo, soap, some cleaning supplies, all usable. He put the smaller things in the pillowcase and moved on to the bathroom, where he found some over-the-counter meds and a box of Band-Aids, as well as a prescription bottle more than half full of OxyContin that he would pass on to Ben.

He went downstairs for a box to put the bedding in and saw Alex sitting on the hall floor looking stunned. He dropped the pillow case.

“What?” he asked.

Alex gestured to the pile of boxes that surrounded him and then to the open door of the small closet under the stairs. “I found this stuff,” he said, his voice trailing off.

Gil sat down next to him and began to open boxes: jewelry, good jewelry, quite a few pieces; a sterling silver teapot; old coins; a few small paintings. He picked up one of the paintings, a portrait of a serious-faced little girl with brown hair and a red dress and a puppy at her feet.

“It’s old, I think,” he said. “Early nineteenth century.”

“Do you think she was dealing in confiscated property?” Alex asked. “Is that what all this is?”

Gil shook his head. “No,” he said briefly, examining more of the items. “I don’t think so. I think she was selling things for people, same as she did for us. She must have sold almost everything she owned before she started taking a cut to sell things on the black market. People don’t hang onto jewelry and paintings when their kids are hungry. Grammy Nell wouldn’t have any confiscated property. If she’d been working with the Greaters, she would have turned us in long ago.”

Alex let out a long breath. “You’re right,” he said. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just didn’t expect to find stuff like this.”

“Me neither,” Gil told him. “The question is now, what do we do with these things?”

“For now, I think we pack them up and take them back to the cabin. We can’t possibly make a considered decision today. What did you find upstairs?"

Gil told him about the boxes, the pictures and letters, the documents.

“The deed to the house and the property tax records?” Alex asked. “Get those. The homeowner's insurance paperwork too. We might be able to use them.”

“Okay. I came down to look for a big box for bedding. Have you seen one?”

Alex shook his head. “Nothing bigger than a grocery bag that I saw.”

“I’ll pile everything on top of a sheet and tie it. That will have to do.”

“You sure you looked everywhere upstairs?” Alex asked.

“Yeah. There’s not much there.”

Gil went back to Nell’s bedroom and started folding the bed linens. There was a heavy warm quilt and another blanket, as well as sheets and the other pillowcase. He spread the flat sheet on the floor and put everything else on top of it, then tied the four corners of the sheet together. It made an unwieldy bundle, but at least everything stayed together. He checked under the mattress and under the bed – nothing there. Grammy Nell really had had very little in the way of material possessions. He got the papers Alex had requested out of the box and took everything downstairs, where he saw that Alex had designated the hall as the temporary storage place for everything they would be taking back with them. It was getting dark, and Alex had turned on a lamp, but not the overhead lights.

“We should try to get a couple of hours of sleep,” Alex suggested. "It’s going to take us most of the night to dig up the back yard.”

“I’ve got blankets here,” Gil told him. “Oh, and here are the papers that you wanted.”

Alex slid them into a folder that he had found. “The utility bills were in the desk. I was thinking we might be able to maintain this house like we do the cabins.”

“That could be quite useful,” Gil agreed, although he could see all sorts of barriers to its success. He’d let Alex and Tony or TJ figure that out. “Was there any soup left?” he asked.

“No, but there’s other stuff,” Alex said. “More crackers and a little bit of cheese and some peanut butter – and coffee and sugar.”

“Not if we’re going to try to sleep.”

Alex made a face, but didn’t argue. They finished the crackers with cheese and peanut butter, then wrapped themselves in blankets and lay down on the hall floor. Alex set his phone alarm for midnight and was asleep within minutes. Gil lay silently staring into the dark, missing Peggy, wondering who had killed Grammy Nell, hating that they were plundering her house for anything useful while recognizing the practicality of it. He suspected her activities as a dealer had become known, and that someone had come looking for valuables. They hadn’t found them, though, since they were still in the house for Alex to find. He wondered if her attacker was going to come back to look. He wasn’t scared. She’d been killed by a blow to the head, not a bullet, and he and Alex were capable of taking on anyone without a gun.

He shifted position, trying to get comfortable, and moved closer to Alex, who threw an arm around him in his sleep. Gil smiled. He loved Alex as much as he loved anyone on the earth except Peggy and Katie, and one of the things he loved best about him was that he was completely honest in all his relationships. He would always be physically affectionate with Gil, but he knew exactly where the line was and never crossed it. It had taken the first few months of their friendship to work that out, but there hadn’t been an awkward moment since. Alex and John, he thought sleepily, had been in love since the beginning, and then Alex had met Eliza and had fallen in love with her too. It seemed way too complicated to him, and he fell asleep before he figured it out.

At midnight, roused by the alarm, they folded the blankets away and went outside. The neighborhood was dark and quiet, although a few houses away they heard a dog bark. Gil got the spade out of the shed and they pried up the pavers from around the back door, stacking them by the fence. They measured out the area they were going to dig, and Alex started. They each did half an hour on, half an hour off, sweating and taking their jackets off to dig, then putting them back on and remembering to drink enough water. It took about four hours to dig the grave deep enough. They lowered Grammy Nell’s body, still wrapped in the tarp, into it, then placed the bags of broken glass and bloody rags in it as well. They took turns again refilling the hole, which went much faster than the digging, and tamped the pile of earth down as much as they could. Finally, they replaced the pavers to disguise as much as possible what they had done. Alex stood by the door, staring down on the grave that they hoped no one would ever discover.

“We should say something,” he said. “She believed in God.”

“Then God, if there is a God, will understand,” Gil shrugged.

Alex shook his head stubbornly. “She was good to us. She helped us. She has nobody else to say a prayer for her.”

Gil sighed and went into the house and up the stairs to Nell’s bedroom. He pulled the Bible and the prayer book out of the nightstand, took them back with him and handed them to Alex.

“Here,” he said, “maybe you can do something with these.”

Alex smiled, paged through the prayer book, and began to read quietly from it in the early light of dawn.

“Unto Almighty God we commend the soul of our sister Nell departed, and we commit her body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection unto eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ, at whose coming in glorious majesty to judge the world, the earth and the sea shall give up their dead; and the corruptible bodies of those who sleep in Him shall be changed, and made like unto His own glorious body; according to the mighty working whereby He is able to subdue all things unto Himself.

Let us pray.”

He closed the book and began the Lord’s Prayer, and Gil, in spite of himself, found the words coming back to him, so that it was easy to join Alex in reciting it in the language they had both learned as children.

_“Notre Père, qui es aux cieux, que ton nom soit sanctifié. Que ton règne vienne. Que ta volonté soit faite sur la terre comme au ciel. Donne-nous aujourd'hui notre pain de ce jour. Pardonne-nous nos offences comme nous pardonnons aussi à ceux qui nous ont offensés. Et ne nous soumets pas à la tentation, mais délivre-nous du mal, car c'est à toi qu'appartiennent le règne, la puissance et la gloire, aux siècles des siècles. Amen.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to say goodbye to Grammy Nell, but she has helped the squad in many ways. Will we ever know who killed her?


	28. Look at Where We Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone waits for Alex and Gil to come home. John learns to skip stones.

“He said they were safe,” Herc reminded them. “He said it might be a day or two before they got home.”

Angelica twitched her shoulders at him. “Why the hell didn’t he tell us what was going on?”

“Time. Security. Safety.” He counted them off on his fingers.

“Shut up,” Angelica told him.

“Don’t ask me questions if you don’t want answers.”

“Stop, both of you,” Peggy told them. “Alex said they were okay. Don’t make it worse.”

“He didn’t say anything about Grammy Nell,” John pointed out quietly.

“I’m making tea,” Herc said, heading for the kitchen. “Anybody else want some?”

“Yes,” Eliza said. “Come on, guys. Arguing with each other won’t get them back any faster.”

It was already late afternoon, with the sun coming slantwise through the windows. Katie was napping, and Eliza had been knitting, working on the tiny sweater she was making for Burr and Desi’s baby. Alex and Gil had been gone for a day and a half, and there had only been the one message more than twenty-four hours ago.

“Could you text him back in code?” John asked Angelica.

“Theoretically, yes,” Angelica said, “but he said we’re only using it if it’s absolutely necessary. They’re not actually late at this point.”

“Right,” Herc told her, giving her the ugly cow mug and a pointed look.

“We should wait at least another day,” Peggy said, knowing that was the sensible way to respond, but hating every minute she didn’t know where Gil was.

“Alex said a day or two, right?” Eliza asked. “It’s been one. We should wait two more days before we assume there’s a problem and try to make contact.”

Nobody answered her. After a while, John gulped down the last of his tea. “I’m going to go for a walk. Anybody coming with?” He looked around.

“Me,” Peggy said. “I think I need some air.”

* * * * *

Alex and Gil realized they’d have to load the car during the night, so they went back to sleep for a while in the morning and got up shortly after noon. Alex made coffee and they searched the fridge and freezer for food that needed to be used up. Grammy Nell had some small frozen packets of ground beef, so Alex cooked some of that with rice and experimented with some seasonings he found in the cupboard.

“It’s not bad,” Gil told him, chewing thoughtfully. “We should take those spices back with us.”

Alex nodded. “We’re taking all the food. It would be stupid not to.” Not that there was all that much. Nobody was able to stockpile food, and Grammy Nell had lived modestly. There was sugar, though, four small bags of it, and Alex could barely contain his excitement. “Do you think maybe she was selling sugar on the black market?” he asked.

Gil shrugged. “Who knows?” He took a sip of the hot, sweet coffee. “Have you thought that whoever killed her might be back because they didn’t find what they were looking for?”

“Of course I’ve thought about it. I’d say it’s almost certain. Whoever it was, she knew them,” Alex said.

“What do you mean?”

“The door was unlocked and undamaged. She let them in.”

Gil nodded thoughtfully. “So maybe someone she’d dealt with before?”

“Almost certainly. They might have only intended to knock her out while they searched the house, but they didn’t do that. Something must have happened to interrupt them.”

“Knock at the door? A lookout warning them?” Gil offered.

“Could be. And yet, they took the time to turn off the heat. It’s been, what would you say, two or three days?”

“About that.”

“And they haven’t come back. Why?” Alex was impatient. He didn’t like unanswered questions.

“Maybe we should just be thankful.” Gil stretched and made a face. “ _Beurk, je pue!”_

Their jeans and shirts were stiff with dirt, sweat, and blood, but they hadn’t brought a change of clothes.

“No kidding, me too,” Alex admitted. “I’d say go take a shower, but then you’d just have to put the same disgusting clothes back on, so why bother? We’ll just have to wait till we get home.”

“My wife will not like it,” Gil said.

“I bet she’ll hug you anyway.”

Gil smiled. “Yeah.” Peggy would throw herself into his arms no matter how bad he smelled. He wanted to hold her and bury his face in her hair. “I miss her,” he said softly.

“Don’t tell Angelica I said this,” Alex told him, “but you guys are really cute. I mean, Disney-movie-cute.”

“I know,” Gil agreed. _“Nous sommes tout à fait adorables.”_

“Okay, forget I mentioned it,” Alex told him. “All that sweetness plus the sugar in my coffee is going to send me into a coma. Let’s make sure we’ve got everything packed up.”

They emptied the cupboards into grocery bags and wrapped some mugs in towels and put them in too. There were dishes, pots and pans, and other kitchen necessities, but there was no point in duplicating what was already at the cabin. Alex had an idea that the furnishings from the house might at some point be used to help out some other people who had to be in hiding, so they would leave most of them there. Gil stood in the living room and looked around. There was a small couch and an upholstered chair in a dark rose color, a desk and a desk chair, a bookshelf with a few books (nothing interesting) and some knickknacks. A framed picture of Nell, Nancy, and their parents when the girls were elementary-school age. A needlepoint pillow that was unraveling on one side.

Gil sat down in the upholstered chair. “You know, if we took this chair back with us, we wouldn’t fight over the comfy chair so much.”

“We can’t get that in the Kia,” Alex said, “and we’re not moving anything major until I talk to Headquarters.”

“I knew you’d say that.”

They had all the things they were taking stacked in the hall in as few bags and bundles as they could make. All they had to do now was wait till it was late enough that the neighbors would be asleep.

Alex sprawled on the couch. “We’re going to have to tell Burr and Desi about Grammy Nell,” he said. “We’ll have to come back to town in a couple of days.”

Gil looked them both over and sniffed at himself in disgust. “I guess we don’t want to go see them now,” he commented.

“I thought about it, really, but I don’t want to give them any reason to be suspicious of us, and right now, we don’t look too trustworthy.”

“So we’ll come back later,” Gil agreed.

“I don’t like being in town so much,” Alex told him. “Since that Shippen girl spotted Angelica, I’d rather stay out of sight.

* * * * *

It was cold out, but at least the sun was shining. John carried his gun in his right hand, and gave Peggy a quick left-arm hug.

“I hate them being away too, Sis,” he said.

“Why can’t I get used to it?” Peggy asked in frustration.

“’Cause you love him, and you want to be with him. Pretty simple.”

“I want to be with him all the time,” she admitted. “Is that normal?”

“Nope.” They had come to the lake and John was trying to skip stones. He shifted his gun to his left hand and tossed a flat stone out a few feet to where it fell straight down with a plop. “Fuck,” he said.

“Do you know how to skip stones?” she asked.

“I’m working on it,” he said, tossing another one with the same result.

Peggy giggled. “Who’s teaching you?”

John grinned at her. “I’m doing an independent study.”

She looked around the ground and found a flat stone. “Watch,” she told him, and flung it out so that it bounced twice before sinking.

“Fuck, Peggy, nobody ever told me you could do that. Come on, show me.”

“You have to find a good stone,” she said, “and you have to keep it level with the water. Look.” She took another flat stone in her hand and showed him how to hold it. “And then you spin it, almost like you spin a Frisbee.” She flicked it over the water and cheered. “Woot! Three skips!”

John tried again with no success, and then she told him, “Throw it lower, parallel with the surface.”

His next one skipped once before it went under and they both jumped up and down like little kids. They kept at it for nearly an hour until they were both freezing and the sun was on the edge of the lake.

“You are the stone-skipping boss,” John laughed, hugging her. “Who taught you to do that?”

“My dad,” she said, and blinked a couple of times. “He taught us all. Angelica’s the best at it.”

“I’m glad I got a chance to meet your dad,” John said. “He was a good guy. He put up with Alex and me in his house.”

“Just for a weekend,” Peggy reminded him. “He liked you guys. He thought you were funny.”

They walked for a few minutes in silence.

“You know what?” John said. “I bet Angelica’s no better at skipping stones than you are. She just always says she’s the best at things, and everybody believes her.”

“I bet you’re right,” Peggy said.

* * * * *

Alex had set his alarm for three in the morning this time. He turned off the interior light in the Kia and kept the lights in the house off except for the small lamp in the living room, just enough for them to see the bags and boxes. They filled the trunk and the back seat, and made sure the sheets and blankets were on top of everything, then took one last look around the house. Alex locked up with Grammy Nell’s keys that had been hanging on the hook by the front door, as always. They had locked all the windows, and, while the house wasn’t burglar-proof, it was as secure as they could make it. Alex put the keys in his pocket, and they shut the Kia’s doors as quietly as possible, then drove onto the main road without lights. When they made the turn, Gil flipped the switch, and they were just another couple of dirty Deplos on their way to work the early shift. The cover story, if they needed one, would be that they were helping a buddy move, and that’s why they had blankets and soap and canned goods in the car. Gil stayed at the speed limit, making sure he didn’t do anything to draw attention to them, and a little after sunrise, he pulled up in front of the cabin. Herc opened the door and stood looking at them, shaking his head, but unable to hide his relief at their return.

“There’s stuff in the car,” Alex said vaguely.

“You look like shit,” Herc told him. “Hell, you smell like shit.”

“Yeah, well … anybody else up?”

“Not yet.”

“Okay.” He turned and called over his shoulder, “Gil, I’m making the supreme sacrifice for you, so you get the shower first. You owe me.”

Gil fist-bumped him on the way past, and kicked off his shoes before he went in.

Herc looked at Alex. “You want to tell me?” he asked.

“Not yet. Telling it once is going to be bad enough. There’s coffee and sugar in the car. Can we have some?”

“Yeah, but you’re not sitting on a chair until you get out of those clothes. Jesus, Alex, what the fuck did you guys do?”

“It wasn’t us,” Alex said, shaking his head.

Gil was out of the shower in ten minutes and Alex was in, while Herc kicked their filthy clothes out onto the front step. While Alex was showering, Herc made the coffee and then filled a washtub with hot water and threw the clothes in.

“Some of it’s blood,” Alex said, coming up behind him.

“Well, fuck,” Herc muttered, “that won’t come out now.”

“Maybe we should just burn them,” Alex suggested.

“Maybe,” Herc agreed, understanding nothing so far.

Gil sent Katie out to have breakfast with Uncle Herc, then woke Peggy with kisses, and she wrapped herself around him, her hands in his hair.

“Your hair’s all wet,” she murmured sleepily.

“’S okay,” he said, his mouth against hers, and then they stopped talking for a while.

John got up and kissed Alex and then drank some of his coffee, and then Eliza kissed him, but got her own coffee. Angelica was the last one up, and she pretended that she hadn’t been worried at all. Gil and Peggy finally came out for breakfast, holding hands and ignoring all the snickers and knowing looks. Gil wouldn’t let go of his wife, even holding her on his lap while he drank his coffee. She kept her head on his shoulder, knowing he needed her and not knowing why, but willing to wait.

“Somebody needs to go get Tony,” Alex said, as he finished his second cup of coffee. John volunteered, so they cleaned up, and Herc flatly refused to let Alex have any more coffee. He and Angelica started to unload the car, but Alex insisted that they wait. Bringing in all of the things they had packed would require an explanation, and he only wanted to do it once.

Tony came back with John, along with Jack and Molly, who were hoping to get some coffee. Herc made another pot, but handed Alex a glass of water with a stern look. There was an odd, tension-filled atmosphere, part celebration with the sweet coffee, part fear of what Alex and Gil had to relate. The two of them sat side-by-side on the couch, crowded to make room for Peggy on Gil’s other side, his arm around her. Tony dragged in one of the kitchen chairs, Eliza sat knitting with the soft white baby yarn, and everyone else sprawled on the floor. Even Angelica was quiet.

“Remember when Tony had to tell us about how John got shot?” Alex asked. “He said it was a long story and ugly, and he only wanted to tell it once. That’s how I feel now, so please just listen.”

Tony watched him, not knowing what the story was going to be, but understanding the dread of having to tell it. Alex looked pale and exhausted, his eyes shadowed.

“When we got to Grammy Nell’s,” Alex began, “the door was unlocked. We went in, and we found her.”

They all knew from the way he said it that they hadn’t found her alive.

“Was it her heart, do you think?” Eliza asked softly.

Alex shook his head. “Somebody killed her.”

He couldn’t just keep telling the story then, because everyone had to ask questions. Gil took over and explained as much as they knew about how she had died.

“That’s so fucked up,” John said, tears on his lashes, “dying on the cold floor, nobody with her. She deserved better.”

“You’re right,” Alex agreed. “We couldn’t do anything for her except give her a decent burial, so we did that. We buried her on her own property, and we said a prayer.”

“I’m glad you did,” Peggy said. “She believed in God, and she would have wanted that.”

Gil looked down at her, a little ashamed of himself. She shook her head. “No, you were right to do it, whether you believe or not. You did it for her, not for yourself.”

He kissed her forehead. “You’re kinder than I deserve.”

Alex skipped the details about scrubbing the bloody floor, but Herc was able to deduce why there was blood as well as dirt on their clothes. He explained how they had looked for any evidence of a will or information about her family. Gil took full responsibility for persuading Alex that they should take whatever they could use from the house. He looked up and met their eyes. “Tell me if you think it was wrong,” he said. “As far as I can tell, her things belong to no one, and I think she would rather we have them than someone else.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Then Angelica turned to her sister. “What do you think, Eliza?”

“You’re sure there was no family?” Eliza asked.

“She had one sister who died in 2003,” Gil said. “No nieces or nephews. She never had children.”

“So that means her property would revert to the state,” Eliza said. “It would all belong to the government.” She looked around the room. “How do you think Grammy Nell would like that?”

Angelica gave a choke of laughter. “I think she’d rather burn her house down than see it owned by King’s government.”

“For sure,” John added.

“She hated King and the Greaters as much as we do,” Peggy said. “She did everything she could to outwit them.”

Tony looked at Alex and Gil. “You did the right thing,” he told them. “I know you probably felt bad about doing it, but you’ve got to see that it’s what she would want.”

“We have the paperwork for the house,” Alex said to Tony. “I’m going to talk to the General about it.”

Tony nodded in agreement. “I think it will be useful,” he said.

“Do Desi and Burr know?” Eliza asked.

Alex shook his head. “There was really no way to tell them in the time we had,” he said without going into details about cleaning up blood and digging a grave. “I’ll be getting in touch with them as soon as I can. Tony, I also want to check with the General about bringing Desi and Burr in with the book code. If he okays it, it will make things a lot easier.”

“Good idea,” Tony agreed. “We have to be sure communication is clear before Dolphin.”

“One more thing,” Alex continued. “We found some of Grammy Nell’s black market items in the house and brought them back here. I’ll be checking with the General on the best thing to do with them, but in the meantime, we should get the car unloaded so Tony can take it back.”

With all of them helping it only took a few minutes to bring everything in, and a few more to put away the linens and canned goods. Herc hid the three unopened bags of sugar behind some dishes on the top shelf with the intention of doling it out a little at a time. John saw him doing it and laughed.

“Five days, max, before Alex finds it,” he said.

“Alex can’t even reach that shelf,” Herc protested.

“He’ll get a ladder,” John told him. “I swear, he can smell sugar.”

Herc just shook his head.

Alex spread the black market items out on the table and they all examined them. John picked up the painting of the little girl. “That’s nice,” he said. “No signature, but there were a lot of portrait painters in Philadelphia in the 1820’s and ‘30’s.”

“You think it’s that old?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, look at her hair and the style of the dress,” John told him, pointing out what was obvious to him.

Alex smiled. “Oh, yeah, art major. Is it valuable?”

John shrugged. “I’m not a dealer, and I don’t think it’s worth a ton of money – a couple of thousand maybe. It’s just a shame that somebody would have to sell it.”

“Grammy Nell was planning to sell these things,” Angelica reminded them. “Somebody will be looking for money.”

“We’ve thought about that,” Alex said. “I’m hoping we can either return these things to their owners or find a way to make restitution. I’m not sure how yet. For now, I’m going to pack this stuff back up and keep it somewhere safe, at least as safe as we can make it here.”

He put everything back in the boxes, and Gil stowed them on the top shelf of the bunk room closet. Tony drove the Kia back to his place with Molly and Jack, and everyone did their best to have a normal day. John made a big pot of chicken barley soup with the few pieces of chicken that Grammy Nell had had in her freezer. He seasoned it with some of the spices Alex had found in her cupboard, and it smelled wonderful. Gil spent most of the afternoon playing hide-the-clothespin with Katie and pretending to be baffled when it was her turn to hide it. They both fell on the floor laughing and Katie climbed all over him. Peggy, watching, knew Gil was okay. Death, even Grammy Nell’s, was part of life. Gil was loving, and certainly romantic, but not sentimental. He faced everything directly.

Later that night when they were alone in bed, she said to him, “You’re all right, aren’t you?”

“Mm-hm,” he said. “It was a sad couple of days, but we do what we have to do.”

“To survive?”

“To survive in the world we have now, to live in a better world later.”

She brushed his cheek with her fingers. “You always see clearly,” she said.

He thought about it. “I suppose …”

“It’s so easy to be with you because there are no barriers.”

“What do you mean?”

“People always talk about how relationships are hard, marriage is hard, but it’s never hard with you.”

“Maybe those people who say it’s hard are in the wrong relationships,” he suggested.

“Maybe, but I think it’s because they get caught up in how they’re supposed to act and what they’re supposed to feel and they end up pretending with each other.”

“You are remarkably wise for a teenage girl,” he said in his most superior voice.

Peggy giggled. “Thank you, kind sir. But really, we’ve been completely honest with each other from the very beginning.”

“Because we knew from the very beginning that we were committed for a lifetime. It’s impossible to keep up a pretense that long.”

“Is that it? We didn’t know when we started that it would be like this.”

“Yes, we did.”

She turned her head so that she could see his face, smiling. “You think we did?”

 _“Absolument._ I saw you, and I knew. I knew that I loved you, that you were the only woman I would ever love. I knew that we would be together. I even mentioned our future grandchildren.”

“I remember. Dozens, I believe you said.”

“Yes. Did you think that was ridiculous, or wonder what I was talking about?”

“No. I remember thinking, Oh, he wants a big family. That will be nice.”

“See, you knew it too.”

She thought about it for a minute. “I did, didn’t I? I knew it was – I don’t know how to put it into words. Just that I knew it was going to happen. It didn’t even surprise me.” She kissed his collarbone, the only part of him she could conveniently reach without moving. “We’re lucky, I think.”

“Mm-hm.” He pulled her closer to him and buried his face in her curls. “You are my refuge, _petit mouton, mon coeur. Je t’aime.”_


	29. Part of the Narrative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burr and Desi get further into the Movement. Burr's sister Sally has some information. Alex and John have a surprise for Gil and Peggy.

Alex was trying to figure out exactly how to phrase a text message to Desi or Burr that would give them the information he wanted them to have but wouldn’t raise suspicions in anyone who monitored the text. He finally typed, “S & I looking forward to seeing you both tomorrow. Hope A’s sister can make it too.” It was hard to say enough without saying too much.

He had spent the previous two days in communication with Headquarters and had gotten some answers to his questions. He was going to be able to bring Desi and Burr in on the book code, which would make communication both easier and more complicated – easier because he could say exactly what he wanted, more complicated because it was clearly a code and codes raised suspicions. He’d have to change phones as often as possible, but Grammy Nell had been his source for used phones. He’d also gotten approval to brief TJ about taking over Grammy Nell’s house. He would hack into the county and utility company computers so that all the bills would be paid as they were on the cabins. That would give them a safe house in the city that they could use whenever they needed it.

After his first couple of messages to headquarters, Alex got a call from his old professor Dr. Barron. To anybody listening, it would have sounded like an ordinary conversation between a student and a former teacher who had kept in touch. The conversation had been in French, of course, but that was the language Alex and Dr. Barron usually used to converse. The professor thanked Alex for helping him find his lost dog, and mentioned that he was planning to go on a whale-watching cruise later in the year. He said he had originally planned to go in February, but some things had come up, and he was rescheduling his cruise for May. He was very much looking forward to it because, he said, _“Quand on observe les baleines, on voit souvent aussi des dauphins.”_ Alex agreed that the expedition sounded very interesting, and as soon as he got off the phone, he called everyone together.

“Something has come up,” he said. “I don’t know what the problem is, but Headquarters is putting off Dolphin until May.”

“Are you sure?” Angelica asked, frowning. “Three months?”

“First, yes, I’m sure, because Dr. Barron just told me about rescheduling his supposed whale-watching cruise from February till May so that he could see dolphins as well as whales, and second, three months isn’t really that long.”

“I wonder if it has something to do with the explosions in Boston,” Gil said.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Alex answered. “I suspected that was some sort of a trial run.”

“Could be a lot of reasons,” John commented. “Could be as simple as easier weather to work in.”

“Chances are we’ll never know exactly why, because we don’t …” Alex began, and everybody chimed in “need to know.”

“Right,” he grinned. “It’s good, though, because it gives us more time for preparation. We can get John back in to get pictures of the waterfront, get more information from Burr and Desi about what takes place in various buildings, make sure we have accurate maps and communication paths set up.”

“I’m working on the maps,” John told him. “They’ll be as detailed as I can make them. I could actually use more time.”

Herc had cut up Desi’s white silk shirt into as many squares as he could and hand-hemmed them carefully so that they wouldn’t ravel. John was drawing the maps on the silk with India ink that he had left over from his college art classes. It was painstaking and time-consuming work, and John was meticulous about accuracy. Each map would end up being not only a necessary piece of equipment but also a work of art.

“Are we going to be blowing up buildings the way they did in Boston?” Eliza asked.

“You mean earlier than Dolphin, like they did? If we get orders from Headquarters, certainly, but I don’t think Tony and I are planning to do it otherwise. Remember, the goal of Dolphin is to block the ports, not just destroy things. That’s not to say that a few buildings might not be destroyed to disrupt shipping, but that’s not our primary focus.”

“If John is going back into the city to draw again, who’s going with him?” Angelica wanted to know.

“Probably Eliza and me,” Alex said. “Maybe Jack and Molly or Gil and Peggy.”

“I really don’t want to be out of everything because of that stupid Shippen girl,” Angelica protested. “She won’t be in town unless Columbia is on break.”

“I’m taking that into consideration.”

“I wouldn’t mind going,” Peggy said. “It’s been a while since I was in town, and nobody in Philadelphia would recognize me.”

“I’m taking that into consideration, too,” Alex agreed.

Gil raised an eyebrow. “He’s in commander mode,” he said.

“My squad,” Alex reminded him.

“You have a plan,” Gil said. It was a statement, not a question.

“Hell, yes,” Alex told him. “It starts tomorrow; Eliza and I are going to meet with Desi and Burr, tell them about Grammy Nell, see if they know where I can get more phones. I’m hoping Burr’s sister Sally will be there because she was the one in touch with Grammy Nell to begin with, and she may know who was dealing with her to sell items on the black market. It’s even possible that we might eventually find out who killed her, but I wouldn’t count on that. At any rate, we’ll start there. I’m going to take pictures of all the valuables we found at Grammy Nell’s and show them to Burr and his sister. With any luck, they might recognize some of them.”

The one thing Alex didn’t discuss with them was his own relief that this extra time gave them a little breathing space to get John’s younger brothers and sisters out of Charleston before Dolphin. He’d gotten the General’s approval to move them but was still trying to come up with a safe way to do it. John had no idea that his father would be targeted during Dolphin, and Alex hoped to keep it that way. John would accept his father’s death after the fact, probably even feel a little bit relieved; it would be another thing altogether if he knew in advance that Henry Laurens was going to be killed.

Alex had also been told that in Philadelphia, Judge Shippen would be a target. He had shared that information only with Tony, as ordered. The fact that taking out Judge Shippen would bring his daughter Sadie into town was a further complication, but he wasn’t given a choice in the decision. His hope was that by the time the Shippen family might be gathering to bury the judge, King would no longer be in power, and the Schuyler sisters would no longer be wanted for conspiracy, but there was no way to know.

Alex and Eliza dressed nicely for their trip into town and took the Audi, which they could park in Desi’s neighborhood without raising any questions. Eliza had finished the tiny sweater, hat and booties set for the baby, fluffy white with pink trim. They didn’t have any wrapping paper, of course, but she got Alex to rearrange items they had brought from Grammy Nell’s to get an empty box, put it in that, then tied the box with leftover pink yarn. “James” and “Sandra” parked in front of Desi’s house at around eleven o’clock in the morning.

They were happy to find that Desi and Burr were both there, but Burr explained that his sister would be coming by on her lunch hour. As usual, Desi served coffee. She also passed around a plate with this slices of cake on it.

“Wow,” Alex said, “I don’t think I’ve had cake since Katie’s first birthday party.”

“Is Katie your daughter?” Desi asked, and Alex realized he’d made a mistake.

“No, the daughter of a friend,” he said. “It was before we went undercover.”

“Enjoy the cake,” Desi told him. “There’s more for you to take home.”

Even Haves with their privileged ration cards didn’t get things like cake and cookies every day. Eliza suspected that Desi and Burr generously saved up their ration points and got special treats when they knew they could share them.

She smiled and handed Desi the box tied with pink yarn. Desi opened it and held up the tiny white sweater with the dainty pink trim.

“Oh, how cute is that!” she exclaimed, showing it to Burr. “And look, there’s a hat and booties to match.” She got up to give Eliza a hug. “You are so sweet! Thank you. Did you make this?”

“Mm-hmm,” Eliza smiled. “I love to knit.”

“It’s just beautiful,” Desi said, stroking it. “Teddie is going to look so cute in it.”

Burr just smiled.

“You’re going to call her Teddie?” Alex asked.

“We’ve reached a compromise,” Burr explained. “Her name will be Theodosia, the same as Desi’s. I wanted to call her Theo, but Desi preferred Teddie.”

“And the compromise is that Desi gets to choose?”

“Well, as she pointed out,” Burr grinned, “the one who actually goes through labor and gives birth should have final say.”

“That makes sense,” Alex agreed.

“Keep that in mind for future reference,” Eliza suggested, and they all laughed.

Alex swallowed some coffee and became serious. “I’m sorry to tell you that I have some very bad news,” he said.

“Is it about Grammy Nell?” Desi asked, concern clouding her face.

Alex nodded. “We couldn’t contact her, and we got worried. Gilbert and I finally came into town about a week ago.” He paused deliberately to give them time to draw their own conclusions.

Burr looked at him. “She’s not okay, is she?”

“No. We found her dead.”

Desi grabbed for Burr’s hand and started crying outright. Alex gave them a minute, then went on. “I’m afraid that’s not all. Someone had killed her.”

Alex answered the inevitable questions as best he could, but admitted that he had no real information.

“I’m hopeful that at some point we will be able to deal with whoever killed her,” he said, “but I can’t promise that will happen.”

He went on to tell them that they were planning to use Grammy Nell’s house as a safe house for the Movement, an idea that Burr and Desi unreservedly supported. He then gave them a copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ and explained the book code so that they would be able to use it.

“We’ll try to avoid using it,” he told them, “because codes always draw attention, but it’s there if we need it.”

“I guess this means we’ve gotten somebody’s approval,” Burr said.

Alex nodded. “Yes. The General told me to bring you up to date, but on a need-to-know basis, just like everybody else. That’s for your safety as well as everybody else’s.”

“I understand,” Burr agreed.

“Another thing I want to talk to you about is phones,” Alex went on. “Desi, those two wiped phones you gave us were priceless. I used to get old phones from Grammy Nell from time to time. Sometimes I could use them, sometimes just cannibalized them, but I use phones all the time. There was a time when it was easy to get burner phones, but not anymore. I try to reconfigure the ones that I have, change the numbers, that sort of thing, but that can only be done so many times before I have to ditch the phone. I also use phones to hack accounts to reload credit cards or gift cards.” He looked up a little apologetically. “We do what we have to do. If there's any way you could get more phones, that would be a huge help."

Burr leaned forward. “James, we understand why you’re doing what you’re doing. We’re completely with you. We'll do whatever we can.”

“Thanks,” Alex said briefly. He let them know that someone from either his squad or Tony’s would be coming into town a couple of times a month, and that they would make contact for each visit. “That way if you have any more items from bypass shipments, you can pass them on quickly and not have them in your possession.”

“We do have a few more things today,” Desi told him. “We’re being careful not to tamper with things too often, though, so I’m sure we’re missing so much.”

“I understand, but we don’t want you to take too much of a risk. If you were to get caught, you wouldn’t be able to help anyone at all.”

“I’ll be honest with you,” Burr said. “I’d like Desi to stop work soon and get out of this completely. It’s not just her own life she’s risking now.”

Desi spoke up for herself. “I completely understand that, I do, Aaron, but I have to help for a while longer. I want to be able to tell our daughter that I did everything I could.”

“So you see where we are on that,” Burr said to Alex.

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure you’re not going to tell her what to do,” Alex pointed out.

“Right.”

“How much longer do you plan to work?” Eliza asked Desi.

“Well, there’s another issue that has come up,” Desi said. “You know how Jimmy Prevost was supposed to be in Atlanta until June? Well, he’s planning to come for a visit at the end of March.”

“How are you going to deal with that?” Alex asked.

“Well, I’ll just keep working,” Burr said, “since nobody at work knows about Desi and me, and Desi will start her maternity leave a little early.”

“But where will you go?” Eliza asked. “Obviously you can’t stay here in Jimmy’s house.”

“That’s a bit of a problem,” Desi admitted. “Before I moved in here with Jimmy, I was living with a couple of roommates over near the Art Museum, but one of them has gotten married and the other has moved to Pittsburgh. I need to find a place that Jimmy won’t be able to figure out.”

“In short, you’re going to need to go undercover,” Alex said. “We may be able to help with that.”

Desi smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

“I’ll have to go through channels,” Alex explained, “but luckily, we have plenty of time. Should we be planning on about March fifteenth?”

“At the latest, I’d say. Jimmy’s planning to arrive on the twentieth.”

“Okay, that gives us a month and a half. We’ll handle it.”

“What about maternity care?” Eliza asked. “Are you going to be able to keep seeing the same doctor?”

“Well, maybe,” Desi said. “A doctor’s not supposed to reveal information.”

“Do you trust your doctor?” Alex asked her directly.

She didn’t answer right away. Then, “I’m not sure.”

“Maybe Ben knows somebody,” Eliza said to Alex.

“Yeah, the last thing we want is Jimmy Prevost dropping in on you,” Alex pointed out.

Desi shuddered. “What I ever saw in him …” She turned to Burr. “I’m sorry, babe.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Burr told her. “That was long before you met me.”

“And we’ve all made mistakes in judgment,” Eliza assured her.

Alex raised an eyebrow at that, and Eliza smiled at him.

Burr gave Alex another box of bypass shipment confiscated property, which he put in the lockbox of the car while they waited for Sally to arrive. While Burr felt that his sister was trustworthy, he agreed with Alex that there was no reason to disclose information to her.

“I can’t anyway,” Alex said. “It hasn’t been cleared.”

They had come up with a cover story that Grammy Nell had broken her ankle and had gone to stay with a cousin in Ohio. She had asked Alex to take care of the black market items for her but hadn’t given him any further information, and somehow, he had misplaced the cousin’s phone number. It was a pretty thin story, and none of them liked that they were lying to Sally, but as always, her lack of knowledge could very well protect her from danger.

She arrived about an hour later. Desi introduced her to “James” and “Sandra,” and she settled in with a cup of coffee and a slice of cake.

“Aaron said you got some stuff from Grammy Nell?” she said.

“We did,” Alex replied, and gave her the broken-ankle story.

“Oh, what a shame!” Sally said. “Why didn’t she tell you who the stuff belonged to, though?”

“Well, you know, we were trying to help her get things together, and she remembered it right at the last minute, and then the taxi was there to take her to the airport,” Eliza explained.

“Did you call her?” Sally asked.

“Actually, she dropped her phone and broke it when she fell,” Alex said.

“Oh, no!”

“I know, right?” Eliza agreed. “She gave James her cousin’s number, but …”

“I lost it,” Alex said, embarrassed.

Eliza rolled her eyes at him, and she and Sally exchanged looks that said _Men!_

“Well, I’m sure you’ll hear from her,” Sally said, “but in the meantime, what can I do to help?”

“I took pictures of the things she was supposed to sell, and I’m hoping you know who some of them belong to. That way, we can return them to their original owners, and maybe they can find someone else to sell them. Obviously, the people who were selling them needed money, and now they don’t have either the money or the thing they planned to sell,” Eliza told her.

“I might know some of them,” Sally said. “I know quite a few of the people who dealt with Grammy Nell. She was very reliable.”

Alex passed her his phone with the pictures on the screen.

“Okay, the teapot for sure I can tell you belongs to Adam Hubley’s mom. I see her pretty often, so if you give it to me, I’ll get it back to her.” She swiped through the pictures. “I’ll bet the old coins are from Rebekah Watson’s grandfather. She told me he was going to try to sell his coin collection, and I put her in touch with Grammy Nell. I think the garnet ring is hers too. I’ll let her know what happened, and ask her about the other things. She might know. Can you send me the pictures?”

“Sure,” Alex said, typing her number into his phone, although he had no intention of sharing the photos with her. He would conveniently “forget.” While he wanted to return people’s rightful belongings, he wasn’t going to risk lives to do it. For all he knew, one of the owners of these items had killed Grammy Nell. Sally had to get back to work, so she left, assuring Alex that she would ask around among those who had been dealing with Grammy Nell.

“Next time one of us comes to town, we’ll send the teapot, the coins, and the garnet ring,” Eliza said, “and hopefully some of the other things so that Sally can return them to people. We really appreciate her help.”

They left soon after that, slices of cake carefully wrapped in the back seat. Alex was already planning how they could use Grammy Nell’s house for Desi to hide out in when Jimmy Prevost came back to town. He was sure that the General would agree that they owed Burr and Desi a safe house after all they’d done. Eliza just let him talk until he started to run down.

“You know, though,” he was saying, “as much as I like Burr and Desi, and as much as they’ve done to help us, I still wish she weren’t pregnant. The times are too dangerous.”

“So you really think everybody should just stop having babies until the political situation is stabilized?” Eliza asked, her eyebrow way up.

“Well, when you put it like that … yeah.”

“If that really happened, the human race would die out. When are things ever so secure that there’s no reason to worry about the future? When Katie was born, there were lots of things going on. It was only a year after the insurrection, but my parents went ahead and had a baby anyway. And look at Katie now – she’s fine.”

“Katie’s fine, I agree, but her life isn’t normal.”

“What’s normal? Do you have some sort of idea that if a kid doesn’t grow up in a home with two parents, two point five kids, a dog and an SUV, that their life is ruined? Katie is a happy child. She’s well cared for and she lives with people who love her.”

“All true,” Alex agreed, “but what if Peggy hadn’t been able to get her out when she did? She’d be in some government foster home now.”

“There’s no point is going down every hypothetical highway,” Eliza said. “Life is full of what-if’s.”

“Okay, I don’t disagree, but I still wish Desi weren’t pregnant. It’s going to be a lot harder to keep her and a baby undercover than it would be to hide just her.”

Eliza couldn’t really argue with that, so she sat quietly for a few minutes.

“You okay?” Alex asked after several silent miles.

“Mm-hmm,” she said. “I was just thinking that we sort of had this same conversation the last time we visited Desi and Burr.”

“Yeah. It’s almost what you would call a touchy subject.” He looked at her sideways.

She smiled. “It might be. When do you want to talk about it again?”

“After Dolphin?” he ventured.

“Deal,” she agreed.

* * * * *

When they got back to the cabin, John pulled Alex aside and said something to him privately. Alex nodded, then signaled to Eliza, and the three of them went into the bunk room and closed the door.

Herc watched them suspiciously. “What’s up with John?” he asked.

Gil shrugged. “Who knows, _mon ami?_ Maybe John has some questions about those silk maps he spends so much time on.” He went back to showing Katie the letters in her alphabet book.

“Where’s K?” she asked, still especially fond of that letter.

Herc didn’t have to wonder for long, because John, Alex, and Eliza emerged from the bunk room almost immediately.

John was carrying a rolled-up paper. He struck a pose and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please?”

Everyone looked up. “Are there cookies again?” Angelica asked hopefully.

“Cake,” Eliza told her, “but later. Go ahead, John.”

“Thank you,” John said with a nod in her direction. “Peggy and Gil, it’s been over a month since you two got married, right?”

Peggy and Gil looked at each other, a little surprised. “Right,” Peggy said, “about five weeks.”

“And I believe at the time of your marriage, a question might have been raised about its legalness,” John went on.

“Legality,” Eliza corrected.

“Whatever.”

“Not by us,” Gil said positively.

“Alex,” John said with a shrug. Gil turned to Alex and frowned.

“I was just thinking of things like insurance and bank accounts,” Alex explained.

“Well, since we don’t have any of those, I don’t see why you were concerned,” Gil told him.

“What about Peggy’s right to the title?” Alex asked.

“I don’t care about the title,” Peggy told him.

“You say that now, _Madame la Marquise,_ ” Alex said, “but the time may come …”

“If the time comes, I’ll worry about it then. This is silly.”

 _“Attends une minute,”_ Gil said to Alex, his face thoughtful. _“Tu parles de l’héritage du titre? C’est ça?”_

Alex nodded. “You understand this isn’t something I like to talk about, but I have reason to know.”

“So what have you done?” Gil asked, looking from Alex to John and back again.

“Fixed it,” Alex said with a grin.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Angelica asked.

Alex signaled John to go ahead.

“Mr. and Mrs. Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis et Marquise de Lafayette,” he began, then glanced at Alex and asked, “Did I get that right?”

“Perfect,” Alex told him.

“Okay then,” John continued, “Gil and Peggy, because I am not going to say your fucking twenty-syllable name again, here is your official and completely legal certificate of marriage.” He held out the paper to them.

Gil took it from him, unrolled it, and they all gathered around to examine it. It did indeed appear to be a perfect copy of a Pennsylvania record of marriage, signed by the Reverend Jesus Lago as officiant and by Alexander Hamilton and Elizabeth Schuyler as witnesses. The location of the marriage was given as the township the cabin was located in, and the date was December twenty-third.

“This is great, John,” Peggy said, giving him a hug. “You are amazing.”

John grinned back at her. “It was Alex’s idea,” he said.

“When I was hacking county files last week for tax records on Grammy Nell’s house, it occurred to me that I could hack vital records through the same system and record your marriage, so I did,” Alex explained. “I had to confer with John so that he could make you a paper copy, and we came up with a name for the priest.”

“I figured Jesus, because it was right before Christmas,” John explained, giving it the Spanish pronunciation, “and Lago, because it means lake, and you got married at the lake. Father Jesus is from Puerto Rico, and he went back right after Christmas, so it might be hard to find him. I hope you’re Catholic, by the way.”

“Close enough,” Gil said, looking at Alex in a strange way, his eyes very bright.

“It was really sweet of you guys,” Peggy said. She looked at the certificate. “This is nice to have, but you know you didn’t have to.”

“It was fun to do,” John said. “I was just waiting for Alex and Eliza to get home to sign it.”

“I don’t know why Eliza got to be maid of honor instead of me,” Angelica complained, pretending to pout.

“I love you too,” Peggy told her.

“Thank you both for signing it,” Gil said.

“I have no problem swearing that you two are the most married people I’ve ever met,” Alex told them. “Now you have proof.”

“And if we ever need another copy?” Gil asked.

“You can get it from the county,” Alex told him with a smile. “Everything’s on file.”

Gil put out his hand and pulled Alex into a hug. _“Merci, mon frère,”_ he said.

Peggy put the certificate on the closet shelf in the bedroom, but it wasn’t until later that night that Gil explained its real significance.

“What do you know about Alex’s family?” he asked her when they were in bed.

“Only that he lost his parents young, and moved from relative to relative until he got a scholarship to Columbia,” she replied. “I don’t think he had a very happy childhood.”

“That’s for sure,” Gil said. “It’s not something he talks about much, but there’s more. His parents weren’t married, and his father took off when he was pretty young, nine or ten, I think. Then when his mother died a couple of years later, he didn’t even know where his father was or how to contact him. Somebody finally tracked him down – by then Alex was living with a friend's family – but his father claimed that Alex wasn’t his, that his mother had been, shall we say, promiscuous?”

“Oh, my God, that’s awful!” Peggy said.

“Right,” Gil agreed, “and there’s more. His father – well, the guy who he’d always believed to be his father – refused to take any responsibility for him. The father of Alex’s friend, I think, got a lawyer to force Alex’s father to take a DNA test so he’d have to pay child support. It turned out that Mr. Hamilton really wasn’t Alex’s father. Alex has no idea to this day who his biological father really is.”

Peggy was stunned. “But that’s terrible. Oh, poor Alex!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad. Not long after that, The Children's Services people sent him to live with his cousin in New York, and the cousin died of an overdose. Alex moved from friend to friend until he started Columbia, but he never really felt like he belonged. And he’ll always wonder who his father is.”

“I can’t even imagine.”

“The thing is,” Gil went on, “if his parents had been married, his father would have had to take responsibility for him. That’s what this was all about.”

“But Alex can’t think that you’d ever do anything like that, he can’t …”

“No, no, it’s not that, _chérie._ But he knows that under French law, our child can’t inherit the title unless we’re married. Even if the title is unimportant to us now, Alex wants to be sure that there would be no obstacles in the way of our future child.”

“And that’s why he did this,” Peggy said, understanding everything and wiping her eyes on her tee shirt.

“So that our son will be the Marquis de Lafayette if he so chooses.”

“I think we should name our first son Alexander,” she said after a minute.

 _“Je suis tout à fait d’accord,”_ he agreed, and kissed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ron Chernow did in fact raise the question of Hamilton's paternity in his biography of Alexander Hamilton. It's possible that James Hamilton was not Alexander's father, but of course there's no way to know now. I just thought I'd throw that into the mix.  
> John will be going back to the waterfront to make some more sketches soon. I hope nothing interrupts him this time.  
> I love your comments, and they really do help me out. Thanks for them and the kudos! Love to all of you!


	30. Delighted and Distracted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex, Angelica, and Gil look back a few years. Gil and Peggy go on a pretend date. John draws pictures. Eliza tries to get Alex to sleep.

Alex sent a message to Dr. Barron about his lost dog again, and a couple of days later Zach Hanson showed up in the old VW, this time accompanied by Jake Ziegler, a guy about his own age from Philadelphia.

“Jake is going to show me around Philly,” Zach said, as they sat over coffee with everyone. “It looks like I might need to be familiar with the city.”

“Do you have family in Philadelphia?” Eliza asked Jake.

“My mom and my sister,” he said. “My dad died in the First Insurrection.”

“The First Insurrection?” Alex queried, stirring his coffee thoughtfully.

“That’s what we say now,” Zach Hanson replied, his chin up. “We all know there’s going to be another insurrection soon.”

“Do we?” Alex felt a hundred years old. He’d been eighteen at the time of what was apparently now known as the First Insurrection, the same age as these kids now. It was only five years ago, but he’d lived lifetimes since then. “What do you know about a Second Insurrection?”

Zach shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat, looking around the table from face to somber face. “Well, nothing, really, just that there will be one. There’s a lot of talk at Headquarters.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t listen to talk,” Herc told them. “Pay attention to what the General or your officers tell you, no one else.”

“What, you don’t think there’s going to be another insurrection soon?” Jake asked, flushing. “You think we should just keep waiting?”

“Oh, Jesus,” Alex muttered wearily, running his hand through his hair. He looked at Angelica.

“Five years ago, that’s you,” she told him.

“I know,” he said. “That’s what makes me so tired.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Okay, listen, guys. Remember what President Washington said in his last State of the Union address? ‘Winning is easy; governing’s harder.’ We all need to focus on what kind of government we’ll need rather than on any battle we’ll be participating in. That’s what will matter in the end.”

“Well, yeah, sure,” Zach agreed, “but we have to win first.”

Gil smiled at Alex. _“Jeunes comme nous l’étions. Laisse-les.”_

Alex nodded. _“J’ai vieilli, moi.”_

 _“Comme tout le monde,”_ Gil responded.

“I hate when you do that,” Angelica said for the hundredth time. “Peggy, what did they say?”

“That they’re old,” Peggy said, smiling at her husband.

 _“Chérie,_ you know that is not …” Gil started, but she had made everyone laugh, and that was better than continuing in the direction they had been going. He smiled back at her. _“Tu es adorable.”_

“And we all know what that means, at least,” Angelica said, making a face.

Zach and Jake took the latest bypass shipment items that Burr had obtained, and after they left, Alex opened the coded message from the General that Zach had given him. He read it over several times, double-checking every word, and then he burned the paper in the wood stove, looking into the flames for a long time.

The next morning, he began planning how to get John back to the waterfront to do some more sketches. They would follow the same procedure as for the last attempt, but this time it would be Gil and Peggy, not Joe and Angelica, who would accompany him. Since Gil and Peggy’s identities were registered as Hopes, not Haves, they would have to dress the part and spend their time in a less upscale coffee shop. Still, they were looking forward to it. It was a change in routine and an opportunity to feel they were doing something to drive the Movement forward.

They waited for a nice sunny day and took the Acura, which had had its plates changed since the last time it had gone into Philly. They dropped John off a little farther upriver than he had been the first time, and followed the plan. An hour in a small coffee shop off Jackson Square, a busy area where they wouldn’t attract any attention. Neighborhood diners and coffee shops were dangerous because everybody knew everybody else, so they were safer where lots of people came and went. Then they’d get back in the car, move on to another coffee shop near the Art Museum for an hour, then back to pick up John. They had enough cash for the parking garages and a card for coffee. It should be fine. It would have been fine the last time if not for the Shippen girl, but Columbia wasn’t on break, and anyway, she wouldn’t recognize Peggy and had only seen Gil a few times. Angelica had braided Gil’s hair again. Everyone hated it that way, but it definitely changed his appearance.

The three of them left fairly early in the morning, and John found a good spot near the river, where they dropped him off. Gil followed the directions Alex had given him and drove into the multi-tier parking garage. He made sure to back the car in to allow for a fast exit if needed, and reviewed the layout so that they could get to the car quickly.

“I hate parking garages,” he commented as they walked away from the car.

“It’s the only way to park in Philly,” Peggy told him.

“I know.” He stopped at the exit and looked back, mapping a route in his head. That done, he reached for Peggy’s hand and smiled at her. “Let’s pretend this is a date,” he said.

She laughed. “Okay. We didn’t really date much did we?”

“My darling, we did not date at all.” He had been reminded not to speak French. It sounded odd to hear him to use an endearment in English.

“So is this our first date?” Peggy asked.

“No, because we are already holding hands. Our second date, I think. We’re getting to know each other, but I haven’t kissed you yet.”

“That’s going to be hard to pretend.”

“Well, maybe I will kiss you on this second date,” he told her.

“I hope so,” she said. “You’re really cute, and I like you a lot.”

He gave her his best smile. “You could encourage me,” he suggested, and they were still laughing when they went into the coffee shop. Peggy ordered the coffee while Gil found a table back in the corner, and they settled in to enjoy some time to themselves.

Gil stirred his two packets of sugar into his coffee. “So,” he began, “what are your favorite books?”

“What?”

“We’re getting to know each other,” he reminded her.

“Oh, right,” she said, playing along. “Well, Harry Potter. And yours?”

“I also like Harry Potter, but my favorite is probably _Les Misérables.”_

“Isn’t that a really long book?”

“Yes, it is, but it’s very good.”

She drank some coffee. “I’ll have to read it sometime. Do you have any more questions for me?”

He smiled. “So many that it may take a lifetime to answer them.”

“You know,” she said, “it’s probably a good thing that we didn’t have a chance to date because I couldn’t possibly have resisted you.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, according to my sisters, you have to take your time making decisions about men. You can’t just fall into a guy’s arms on the first date. But you – even now, you are completely irresistible. If we weren’t sitting in a coffee shop, I’d fall into your arms right now.”

“Can we schedule that for later today?”

“Most definitely,” she told him. They drank their coffee without conversation for a few minutes, just enjoying being together.

“I should get back to my questions now,” Gil said after a while. ”What kind of career would you like?”

“I always thought I’d like to be a teacher. Kindergarten or first grade, maybe.”

“So you like children?”

“Very much. I’d love to work with kids.” She saw the next question coming.

“Would you like a big family, then?”

She pretended to consider it. “Well …”

“I mean maybe five or six children,” he amended, “not ten or twelve.”

She bit her lip, trying not to laugh. “That’s kind of a personal question for a second date,” she said primly.

“How about this one, then: you are the most amazing, beautiful woman I have ever seen. Will you have my babies?”

She has just taken a sip of coffee and let out a noise somewhere between a screech and a laugh, and then began coughing for real, and he had to get up to get napkins because she sputtered coffee all over the table and herself. A few other customers looked at them curiously.

Peggy mopped herself up and blew her nose on a napkin. “You are impossible,” she finally was able to say.

“Also irresistible,” he reminded her.

“And Alex would kill us if he saw us acting like this. We’re supposed to keep a low profile, not draw attention to ourselves.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, not sorry at all. “It’s the excitement of being on a date with you.”

“Maybe we should stop talking about this being a date.”

“But you didn’t answer my question,” he persisted. “Should I repeat it?”

“No,” she said hastily. “What if someone overheard you?”

He shrugged. “They would just think I had fallen in love at first sight.”

“Or that you were flat-out crazy.”

“Maybe. But that really was what I was thinking when you walked into the library.”

“Definitely crazy.”

“I thought Katie was yours, you know,” he said softly.

She remembered every word he had said that day. “I know.”

“And I thought, well, that’s a nice start, let’s have some more.”

“Stop,” she pleaded, blushing from her throat to her hair.

“It’s becoming very difficult for me to express myself in English now,” he said softly.

“Gil.”

“Hm?”

“I think it’s time for us to go.”

He checked his watch. “You’re right. Maybe I can kiss you in the car.”

“Maybe,” she said.

When they got into the car, he put his arm around her and leaned over for a long and thorough kiss.

“That was not a second-date kiss,” Peggy told him as he maneuvered the car out of the parking space and down the ramp.

“How can you tell?”

She raised an eyebrow at him and for the moment looked so much like Eliza that he had to laugh.

“We should leave if we’re going to stay on schedule,” she said, “and if we don’t stay on schedule, Alex will kill us.”

“True,” he agreed, “and God knows I’m afraid of Alex when he’s angry.”

She looked at him sideways, not sure if he was kidding. “You’re not afraid of anything,” she said.

“Oh, _chérie_ , you are wrong. I’m afraid of many things.” He paid the parking fee, and they turned onto the street and headed north.

“Is Alex one of them?” she asked skeptically.

“Have you ever known Alex to be angry, really angry, without cause?”

She thought about it. In fact, she’d almost never seen Alex angry – annoyed, certainly, but the one time she had seen him truly angry was when Charlie Lee had run away leaving John wounded and bleeding. He had certainly had cause to be angry then.

“Mm, I see what you mean. Alex gets irritated easily, but not really angry.”

“Right. But if we don’t keep to our schedule and endanger either John or ourselves because of that, and Alex gets angry, well, he will be right. I don’t want to be in that position. And anyway, it’s impossible to defend yourself against Alex because he knows all the arguments and never stops talking.”

She smiled. “That is true for sure.” She looked out the window as they passed Independence Hall, closed now under King’s administration. King didn’t encourage people to learn about history or government, so many historical sites were now shuttered. King claimed it was a necessary national security measure, but she knew better.

“When we have free elections and we live in our big house,” she said, “I want to visit Independence Hall. I want to bring Katie.”

“It will be the first place we go,” he promised, taking her hand. “And we’ll come back every year, so that all the children can learn about it.”

“All the children,” she repeated. “I want them to understand what we did and why we did it.”

“They will.”

They turned and left the historic buildings behind and a few blocks later, turned into another parking garage and crossed the street to another coffee shop.

“Promise me you’ll behave?” Peggy said, looking up at her husband.

“But it’s so much fun to make you blush,” he told her, smiling that smile.

“Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette, have you forgotten how to act in public?”

“All the names. You are running out of patience with me.”

“I just don’t want to choke on my coffee again.”

“All right,” he said, “I will do my best.”

“Thank you.”

“So we are not pretending this is our second date anymore?” he asked.

“No,” she said as they entered the coffee shop. “That didn’t work out too well.”

“I thought it was a very nice date,” he murmured.

“Why don’t you go find us a table, dear?” she asked pointedly. “I’ll get our coffee.”

She brought the coffee to the table and gave him a skeptical look.

“Is this our third date now?” Gil asked innocently.

“No,” she said firmly. “I think we’re just a married couple out having coffee.”

“That’s very disappointing,” he said.

Peggy debated with herself whether to respond to his comment or ignore him. Against her better judgment, she asked “Why?”

“Well, you know what usually happens on the third date.”

“I’m not speaking to you,” she told him and concentrated on stirring her coffee. After a minute she looked up, and he was watching her, smiling. She couldn’t help smiling back; he was, after all, irresistible.

“Where else will we take the children?” he asked.

“What?”

“You said you wanted to take them to Independence Hall. Where else?”

“Oh. Well, Valley Forge, I suppose, and Brandywine Battlefield, all the historic sites.”

He nodded. “That will be good. We’ll need a minivan, though.”

“Or a bus,” she suggested.

He considered. “I don’t think a bus, although it’s possible. We’ll look into it.”

“Is it just because you’re an only child?” she asked him. “Is that why you want so much to have a lot of children?”

“In a way,” he said, “but not exactly. You know my father died when I was two, so I really don’t remember him. My mother was sick a lot when I was small, so I spent a lot of time with my aunt and uncle. Then she died when I was twelve, so I went to live with them. They were very good to me – I don’t want you to think I had a terrible childhood like Alex did. They loved me and took good care of me, but they were older and didn’t have any children. We lived in a house in the country, and there were no children around. I was very lonely.” He smiled a little sadly. “I used to pretend that I had a big brother and a little sister. I would play soldiers with my pretend brother and drink tea with my pretend sister.” He shook his head. “I probably needed some therapy.”

“I’m so lucky to have my sisters,” Peggy said. “We used to fight sometimes over stupid stuff, but we always had each other’s backs. We still do.”

“I know. I envy you that. I don’t mean I’m jealous, just that I know you and your sisters have something that I don’t have, at least not in the same way. I have friends that I love like brothers, but we don’t share memories the way you and your sisters do. I decided a long time ago that if I had kids at all, I’d have a houseful of them so that they would always have somebody to play with.”

“Even if they live in a big house in the country,” she smiled.

“Exactly.”

“When I think about taking family trips in a minivan, I want to get it all started,” she said softly.

“Soon,” he told her, reaching across the table and taking her hand. “And I have to say that you are quite unusual to look forward to family outings in a minivan. There were other girls I dated who stopped answering my texts if I even mentioned that I wanted a big family someday.”

“I don’t scare that easily,” she said.

“You are the bravest woman I know,” he said, suddenly serious.

She looked away, embarrassed. “It’s not brave to want kids.”

“It’s pretty brave to agree to have kids with someone you’ve known for three hours, less than a day after saving your baby sister’s life,” he reminded her.

“I didn’t feel brave when I ran away with Katie. I felt scared.”

“Somebody once told me that being brave is when you’re scared to death, but do the right thing anyway.”

“Who said that?” she asked.

“Alex.”

“Of course he did.” She smiled at him. “How much time do we have before we have to go?”

He looked at his watch. “About ten minutes. Let’s just enjoy the last few minutes of our date.”

“Do you think you’ll ask me out again?”

“Oh, definitely. In fact, I’d like to book all of your free time for the next sixty years or so.”

“Hmm, let me think about that – okay, yes.”

They picked up John half an hour later and without incident, much to everyone’s relief.

“Because last time, it was fucking crazy having to drive out of our way and change the plates on the car and all that shit,” John said. “I’m glad to just go home.”

“Did you get your drawings done?” Peggy asked.

“Yeah, I got a lot done. Alex wanted the buildings in detail, so I got them from different angles." He handed Peggy his sketchbook. Every drawing was precise and accurate, with meticulous attention to detail. Every feature was reproduced with almost photographic accuracy.

“Wow,” Peggy said. “These are amazing.”

“Yeah,” John shrugged, “they’re not so much fun to do because I can’t be creative at all, but I hope they’re useful.”

“I wonder what Alex is going to do with them.”

Gil glanced over at her. “I doubt if we’ll ever know,” he said.

“Yeah, Alex and Tony will take them off and talk about them, but we won’t know until the decisions are made,” John agreed. “So what did you guys do while I was drawing pictures?”

“Well, first, we had a pretend second date,” Gil told him, “but that didn’t go well.”

“Why not? You guys have a fight or something?”

“No,” Peggy said, “but Gil wouldn’t behave.”

John grinned. “And that surprised you?”

“I did not misbehave,” Gil defended himself, “but she refused to allow us to have a pretend third date because …”

“Because you know what usually happens on the third date,” John finished.

“See, you don’t know how to behave either,” Peggy told him, as the guys both laughed. She shook her head and did her best to admire the scenery all the way home, while John and Gil tried to make her blush.

* * * * *

Alex sat up late at the table in the silent cabin with only one small lamp on, examining John’s drawings and silk maps. He made cryptic notes to himself that only he would be able to understand. Then he did it all over again three or four more times.

At about two o’clock, Eliza got up and sat down across from him. “Come to bed,” she said.

“You’re beautiful,” he said to her, taking in her tangled hair and drowsy eyes.

“Mm-hm. You need to sleep.”

“I’m almost done.”

“You’re always ‘almost done.’ Leave it for now and finish it in the morning.” She walked around the table to stand behind his chair, and put her arms around him. “Come to bed,” she whispered, her lips brushing his ear.

He turned his head to kiss her. “I will.”

“I’ll wait,” she said.

“No, you get some sleep,” he told her.

She pulled over a chair and sat next to him. “I’ll stay up and keep you company until you’re done.”

“Really, Eliza, you don’t have to,” he protested, sounding irritated.

“Alexander,” she said softly, taking his hand. She put one finger on his cheek and turned his head toward her. “Please come to bed.”

He reached up and took her hand, then smiled ruefully and looked into her eyes. “Oh, my love,” he said. “How do you have the patience?”

She kissed him very gently. “Come to bed.” He finally stood and she led him to the open couch and sat down next to him.

“Eliza,” he began, but she put her finger on his lips.

“Sh, no more talking tonight,” she said and lay down with him. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, and then his lips and she could feel the tension in him. She stroked his hair and his forehead and continued the soft gentle kisses on his face. After a few minutes, he sighed and began to kiss her back, and slid an arm around her. She melted into him, holding him close to her.

“Oh, my love,” he murmured, slipping his hand under her pajama top and cupping her breast, his thumb circling the nipple. He kissed her, parting her lips, and let his tongue find hers.

She reached over and unzipped his jeans, and began stroking him, and his breathing quickened.

“Yes,” he said, “yes, my love.” He pulled her pajama bottoms off and got rid of his jeans, and pulled her under him. “So beautiful,” he whispered, and she smiled up at him, eyes shining, and opened herself to him. “Yes,” he said again, and then again and again.

Afterward, she fell asleep curled into him, but he lay awake in the dark, his face against her hair. He had done every calculation he could, and had reviewed every possible outcome. Tomorrow, he would talk to Tony, and they would decide together where to put the explosives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm leaving you hanging here, but the squad has to get ready for Dolphin.  
> Like everybody else at this time of year, I'm trying to finish everything that needs to be finished before Christmas break, including a play script and some legal stuff that was unexpectedly dumped on me. And that's before we even think about the cookies. I will try to update at least one more time before Christmas, maybe even twice, but I can't promise. Stay with me, though, because the action is going to pick up soon.  
> Thanks a million (or a fafillion) times for all kudos and comments. I love hearing from you! Writers lead lonely lives, and your feedback is like the conversation that people who work "normal" jobs get at the water cooler or in the break room, so please talk to me!  
> If I don't get a chance to update before Christmas, I wish you a very joyful whatever-you-celebrate. Be kind to one another. Love to all.


	31. You Have Your Orders Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angelica and Alex have an argument that involves coffee mugs, Katie tries to manipulate her adults, and a plan of action is put in place.

Alex had left as soon as the sun was up, taking a cup of coffee with him.

 _Someday,_ Angelica thought, slamming the cupboard door because she didn't care who she woke up, _we’ll buy some nice travel mugs and Alex can take his goddam coffee wherever he wants whenever he wants._

She turned around and Eliza was sitting on the open couch blinking at her.

"Did I wake you up?" Angelica asked defiantly.

"Well, yeah, since you're making as much noise as you possibly can," Eliza responded. "What's wrong?"

"Alex went down to Crazy Tony's at dawn, and he took one of the nice mugs." She made it sound like he was guilty of grand larceny at least.

"Are you nuts? Who cares?"

“We don’t have many nice mugs left,” Angelica said. “Alex broke the one with the yellow flowers when he threw it at TJ, and now he’s got the one with the red tulips.” She threw open the cupboard with another bang and started pointing out mugs on the shelf. “See, there are just three with the blue stripes since Herc dropped one, and the plain green one, and the two white ones, the one with seashells, the heart one, and the Elmo one and the ugly cow. The Elmo mug should really be for Katie, and if Alex breaks any more, he’ll just have to use the ugly cow mug every day.”

Eliza got up and walked over to her sister. She put her arms around her and rested her head against Angelica’s shoulder. “You know you’re not making any sense, right?” she asked.

Angelica stood stiffly for a minute, then leaned into the hug. Eliza felt her sister’s heartbeat and stroked her back. “You okay, Ange?” she asked softly.

Angelica kissed her forehead. “Alex breaks things,” she said, her voice catching.

“I know,” Eliza said, “but he never means to.” They stood holding each other for a long minute.

Angelica tightened her arms around her sister. “Don’t let him break you,” she whispered.

Eliza pulled away a little and looked up at her big sister. “I won’t.”

“You don’t have to …” Angelica began. Her eyes searched Eliza’s face. “You could walk away.”

Eliza shook her head, her smile a little sad. “No, I couldn’t. Not ever.”

“You love him that much?”

“You know I do.”

They stood in silence for a long time.

“He breaks everything,” Angelica said finally.

“No, he doesn’t,” Eliza responded. “Just some things. And he never means to.”

Angelica sighed and kissed her hair. Then she stepped back and said briskly, “Well, since we’re the only ones up, we should make breakfast,” and got out the big pot for oatmeal.

John was the next one up, sleepy-eyed and a little grumpy.

“Who was banging things around?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“That would be me,” Angelica admitted.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” John told her. He stretched and yawned. “Is there breakfast?”

“We just started the oatmeal,” Eliza said. “It will be ready in a few minutes.”

John looked around. “Where’s Alex?”

“He went down to see Crazy Tony about something to do with your drawings,” Angelica said.

“Without breakfast?”

“He seemed to think that putting eight spoonfuls of sugar in his coffee was adequate.”

“Oh, shit,” John commented, blinking. “Well, good luck to Tony.” He rubbed his eyes again. “Is there still coffee?”

Eliza poured him a cup in the heart mug, glancing at Angelica to see if she was going to start ranting about mugs again, but whatever had happened between Angelica and Alex was going to stay between them, at least for now.

By the time Alex got back a couple of hours later, everybody was up, dressed, and had eaten breakfast. He walked in the door and racked his gun, looking a little warily at Angelica who was having a conversation with Peggy on the couch. Gil was on the floor playing with Katie and Eliza was knitting in the comfy chair.

“Where are John and Herc?” Alex asked.

“At the lake,” Peggy told him. “John wanted to show Herc how he could skip stones.”

“Tony and I need to talk to everybody.”

“Everybody?” Gil asked, surprised.

Alex nodded. “Yeah, we’re all in this. It’s a preliminary for Dolphin. I told Tony to bring his guys up after lunch.”

“Okay,” Gil said calmly, putting another block on the tower.

Alex stood there and chewed on his lip for a couple of minutes, obviously trying to keep himself from talking. Then he went into the kitchen looking for coffee.

“We should make some more coffee,” he said.

“Feel free,” Angelica told him, not looking up.

Alex sighed audibly and began opening and closing cupboards loudly.

“Oh, God, not again,” Eliza murmured, and put down her knitting. She went into the kitchen and started coffee, and they heard her having what seemed to be normal conversation with Alex.

Peggy raised an eyebrow at Gil, but he just shrugged. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to know any more than he had to. When Gil looked away, Katie knocked his block tower down and giggled like crazy. In revenge, he turned her upside down and tickled her, much to her delight.

“Uncle John and Uncle Herc go lake?” Katie asked.

“Mm-hmm,” Peggy responded.

“They throw rocks?”

“I think so.”

“We go lake throw rocks too?”

“Maybe later, sweetie. We’re going to have lunch soon.”

“Rocks splash!” Katie said, waving her hands to demonstrate. Peggy just nodded, so Katie tried another tactic.

 _“Tonton,”_ she said to Gil, _“on va lac?”_

Gil tried not to laugh. _“Mais ma petite, Tatie vient de te dire non. On y va plus tard, peut-être.”_

Katie looked back and forth from Peggy to Gil and then gave up. “I get Little Baby and Terkle,” she announced, and went to the bedroom.

“I can’t believe she just did that,” Peggy said, laughing.

“She’s going to be outsmarting you both soon,” Angelica commented.

Gil grinned. “She seemed pretty annoyed that I understand English. Maybe we should learn another language and not teach it to her.”

“You’re the one who wanted to be sure she was bilingual,” Peggy reminded him. “You can’t back out when she starts using it against us.”

“Anybody else want coffee?” Eliza called from the kitchen.

“If there’s enough, sure,” Peggy said.

“I hope to hell Alex brought the mug back,” Angelica muttered, and stomped off into the kitchen to check.

“What do you suppose is going on?” Peggy whispered to Gil.

“I have no idea. In addition, I don’t want to know. It is definitely not my business.”

“No ‘need to know’?”

“Correct.”

Peggy sighed. “You’re right, I know, but they’re my sisters. Everybody seems unhappy this morning.”

Gil took her hand. “Not us,” he said.

She smiled down at him. “Never us,” she agreed. She leaned over to kiss him, and he pulled her off the couch so that she fell into his lap, laughing, just as Angelica came back.

“At it again, I see,” she said, but she was trying not to smile.

“I have not kissed my wife for at least the last hour,” Gil announced with dignity and an exaggerated French accent. “I don’t know why you talk as if that is all we do.”

Angelica was smiling. “Well, maybe not all,” she conceded, “but you guys make out a lot.”

“Hey, Peggy,” Eliza called from the kitchen, “come get your coffee and help me get lunch. Alex wants to be sure we’re done in time to meet with Tony’s squad.”

Peggy gave Gil a quick kiss and went to help her sister as Alex sat down on the couch with his coffee.

“Eliza wouldn’t let me have any sugar,” he complained to Gil and Angelica, who ignored him. “Where are John and Herc?”

“They went down to the lake, remember?” Angelica said.

“Haven’t they been gone an awfully long time?”

He didn’t get an answer because John and Herc came in just then, John yelling, “Who is the boss of stone skipping?”

They racked their guns with a clatter and took off their coats. John stuck his head in the kitchen and bragged, “Four skips, Peggy!”

Herc rolled his eyes. “If stone-skipping was actually a useful skill, John, you’d be assured of lifetime employment. As it is, you’re an expert at something that nobody cares about.”

Katie came running from the bedroom and grabbed John by the leg. “You go lake, Uncle John?” she asked. “You throw rocks maka splash?”

John stooped down to her level. “I don’t just throw them, Katie-girl,” he told her. “I can make them skip across the water.”

“We go lake now?” Katie asked, wide-eyed.

John looked up and realized Peggy and Gil were both glaring at him.

“Uh, maybe not now, Katie. It’s time for lunch.”

Katie’s little face crumpled and she started to cry. “I wanna go lake throw rocks,” she wailed.

 _“Merci, mon ami,”_ Gil said, scooping Katie up.

“I’ll take her after lunch,” John volunteered.

“You can’t,” Alex told him. “Crazy Tony’s squad is coming up. We’ve got stuff to talk about.”

“Everybody?” John asked in surprise.

Alex nodded. “Important stuff.”

Katie was still crying. Gil was talking to her in French, so she had switched languages and was now sobbing, _“Je veux aller au lac, lancer des pierres!”_

“What’s she saying?” John asked Alex.

“She wants to go to the lake and throw stones.”

“Oh. I feel like a terrible person for making her cry.”

“You are,” Gil told him, walking past with a still-whimpering three-year-old in his arms. He turned to Alex. “Is there anything on for tomorrow?”

Alex thought for a minute and then shook his head. “Not for you.”

“Okay, good.” He bounced Katie a couple of times. _“Écoute, ma petite, demain, on va au lac, toi et moi et Tatie, et tu peux lancer des pierres.”_

Katie thought about it. _“C’est sûr?”_ she asked.

 _“Promis,”_ Gil told her.

Katie gave one last sniff, then wriggled down. “I’m gonna tell Tatie,” she said, and went to the kitchen.

“You know if it rains tomorrow, you’re fucked,” Alex said to Gil.

“Don’t even mention it.”

* * * * *

They had just finished lunch when Tony arrived with his entire squad, even Ben. There wasn’t enough room at the table, so Alex and Tony sat on the couch, with everybody else on the floor except, of course, Eliza, who was knitting socks. Peggy put Katie down for a nap, Little Baby clutched in one hand and Terkle in the other. They had recently converted her crib to a toddler bed, and Peggy knelt down next to it to give Katie a kiss.

“We go lake when I wake up?” Katie asked hopefully.

“No, not this wake-up. After it’s dark one more time. Tomorrow.”

Katie gave a resigned sigh, but said, “Okay.” She was really tired. Katie got so much attention from the adults around her that she rarely had tantrums. Today’s meltdown had been unusual, but it had been a strange day, with undercurrents of strained relationships and unspoken issues. Apparently, even Katie felt the stress.

Peggy leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “Have a good sleep, sweetie,” she said. “I love you.”

Katie patted her cheek. “I love you too, Tatie.”

Peggy was the last one to show up in the living room. She sat on the floor next to Gil, with John on her other side. The tension that had been in the air all day was thicker, and the room was silent. She wondered if any of Tony’s squad knew what this was all about, but their faces were blank.

“You start,” Tony said to Alex.

“Okay,” Alex agreed. “Let me review what we already know. Everything we’re doing now will culminate in May, when Dolphin is launched. That will be the best chance we’ve had in five years to get rid of King and bring back free elections. If it goes well, by this time next year, we will be living under a government elected by its citizens. The disparity in standards of living for Haves, Hopes, and Deplos will have been eliminated. We will all be able to return to our jobs or our studies and lead what we call 'normal lives.' It’s what we’ve all been working toward. Let me say, though, that if Dolphin doesn’t go well, we will not survive. I mean that literally. Many of us will die, either in the fighting that will occur or at the hands of King’s Greaters after the failed insurrection, as so many already have.” He paused here and looked from Angelica to Eliza to Peggy. Gil took Peggy’s hand and held it tightly.

“Our first mission in what will become the Second Insurrection will be to demolish four buildings on the Philadelphia waterfront.” There was an audible intake of breath around the room. Alex went on. “We will be doing this at night, when the buildings are unoccupied. However, they all have nighttime security, and we will have to disable the security guards. We hope and plan to do this without serious injury to anyone, but we are authorized to kill them if necessary.”

Peggy felt the bottom fall out of her stomach. Alex sounded so detached, as if he were talking about the rules of a game. She shouldn’t be surprised, though. They knew this was coming. They were fighting a war, and there would be casualties. She focused her mind on her parents and Grammy Nell. There had already been casualties.

“Once the security guards are disabled,” Alex was saying, “we will place the explosives in the buildings. We hope to time the detonations to be as close to simultaneous as possible. We’ll be working in four teams. From my squad, Angelica and I will be one team; Gil, John, and Herc will be the other. I have lead on my team, and John has lead on the other. Gil will also act as medical officer on site in Philadelphia. Ben will be back here, but let’s hope the only injuries we have to deal with are minor ones.”

Peggy looked at Gil, whose face was still but alert. He’d be going into danger, and he’d also be responsible for the lives of others. She watched his eyes, and she realized that he was excited about this. He was ready for it. He _wanted_ to go. She looked at the others. John’s breathing had quickened and Herc was nodding. Angelica’s chin was up, and she was almost smiling.

Tony began to speak. “From my squad, the first team is Molly and me, with me on lead; the second is Jack, Liz, and Joe, Jack on lead. Alex’s squad is going to take out the Delval Paper warehouse and a building that is under construction. It’s called Folinsbee Parke and it’s being built to house luxury condos that will only be available to Haves. Of course, if we’re successful, they won’t be available to anyone. My squad will take the Rem-Con Electronics warehouse and the Jolly Plastic Novelties factory. We have the explosives stored in my shed. It’s good old-fashioned dynamite. We have clear drawings of all of the buildings, thanks to John, and we ought to be able to estimate placement before we go in. We all know that there will be collateral damage. We will minimize it as much as possible, but we can’t eliminate it. Questions so far?”

“When do we go?” John asked.

“Next week,” Tony said. “We’re checking the weather, and we’ll probably only have twenty-four hours warning.”

“Is this what they did in Boston a few weeks back?” Angelica wanted to know.

Alex nodded. “Yes. Each of the port cities that will be disabled during Dolphin is doing a preliminary exercise. We don’t know when the other ones are going. We’re doing these partly for practice and coordination, but also to help us judge how much popular backing we have. There’s been a lot of talk about citizens being ready to rise up in a new insurrection, but what that actually means in numbers is hard to know. Not only will we be taking out those buildings, we will be doing our best to rally the residents of the area and see what kind of support will be available when Dolphin begins. If the citizens don’t take up this cause, we can’t succeed. Between now and the time we go, we’re going to be studying the drawings and maps so we can get in and our safely. We’re going to know exactly what part we will each play, where the rendezvous points are, what passwords to use in an emergency. The better we plan, the less likely that there will be any kind of emergency, but we’ll cover all eventualities.”

Alex paused, and they began to talk to one another. The undercurrent of tension had turned to one of excitement, an adrenaline rush. Gil looked at Peggy. “I’ll come back, _petit mouton,_ ” he said. “I have more to live for than anyone here.”

“You want to do this,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

“I want it to be done,” he told her. “I want it over. I want King dead, and all of us safe.”

She nodded. If this was what they needed to do to bring back a free and safe society, then they would do it.

“One more thing,” Alex continued. “We’re going to be using Grammy Nell’s house as a staging area. As of now, that is officially a safe house for the Movement.”

“Grammy Nell would be proud,” Eliza said, and they all agreed.

There were a few more questions, and Alex and Tony agreed on the next meeting, and then Tony and his guys left. Eliza left the comfy chair to Angelica for once, and curled up next to Alex on the couch. “You know I can fight, too,” she said.

“I know,” Alex agreed. “I’ve seen you fight. You’re staying with Ben in case he needs help with anything medical. If all goes well, you’ll just have a boring day, but we have to plan for the worst.”

Eliza nodded. “I’ll meet with Ben before you go in,” she said, “and I’ll inventory supplies in case we need to get anything.”

“Good idea. You and Ben can handle this.”

John was pacing. “You okay?” Alex asked him.

“Fuck, yeah. I want to get in there. I want to get people going, make them see why they should be with us, get them to understand what the Movement really is about.”

“Inspire them?” Alex suggested.

“Yeah,” John nodded. He went on, his voice thoughtful. “Yeah, inspire them. They’ve been living on their knees under King. I’m going to tell them to rise up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience. I'm glad I got this chapter finished before Christmas. As of Monday, I will have a bit more writing time -- not that there's ever enough -- and will be updating once or twice a week. As you see from this chapter, action in the streets will begin soon.  
> Thanks for staying with this, and thanks especially for the kudos and comments. I always love hearing from you. All best wishes for the holidays, whichever one yours may be. I should be back before 2017.  
> Love to all you readers.


	32. We Can Win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex's and Tony's squads lie low at Grammy Nell's house. Peggy worries back in the cabin. Eliza remembers what happened when she first fell in love with Alex.

The weather forecast for the following Wednesday was for patchy clouds but no precipitation, with nighttime temperatures in the low fifties. They left in the early afternoon, Alex driving the Kia with Gil beside him, Angelica, John, and Herc jammed into the back seat. Tony took his guys in the SUV. The plan was that they would operate independently, but Alex, John, Tony, and Jack had phones. Gil had his medical gear in a backpack. They all had completely illegal guns. If they were caught by the Greaters, years of prison would be the best possible outcome.

Peggy sat alone at the table, trying to drink a cup of tea. Katie was asleep in the bedroom, taking her usual afternoon nap. Eliza was at Tony’s cabin with Ben. It had been decided that they would both stay there in case somebody came back needing medical care. Peggy would join them later in the day, but for now she was trying to keep Katie’s routine as normal as possible. After everyone else had left, she and Katie had walked down to the lake and thrown stones in it for a while, Katie laughing and clapping her hands at the splashes, Peggy trying to see if she could get four skips to tie John’s record – although, seriously, she had her doubts about that record. They’d have to have an official contest, with judges and everything, later. When John came back. If John came back.

Stop it, she told herself. Think of something else. Think of the big stone house she and Gil were going to have, think of their future children, play the game of choosing their names. Alexander for the first boy, of course, and either Angelica or Elizabeth for the first girl. Angelique is a pretty name, she thought; Gil will want the kids to have names that can be pronounced in both French and English. So Alexander and Angelique, she thought, trying to stay focused and ignore the terror that scratched at the edges of her thoughts. She gulped down the last of the tea, and went to the kitchen to make another cup. She was reusing the same teabag, so she wouldn’t use up too much tea. Herc would really be pissed if there wasn’t any more tea when he came back. If Herc came back.

She paced back and forth while she waited for the water to boil. They were all extremely well prepared. They had trained for this. They knew exactly where they were going, exactly what they were going to do. They knew precisely where each stick of dynamite would be laid. They knew where the security guards would be and how to disable them without killing them. They knew where the cars would be and how to get back to them. They had studied the maps until they could give two or three alternate routes to anywhere they might have to be. They’d be fine, Alex said, and Alex was the smartest person she knew. Alex was always right.

The kettle whistled and she poured the hot water over the teabag in the heart mug. She swirled it around a few times and then wrung it out over a spoon. Maybe she could get another cup out of this bag. It was a good thing she didn’t like her tea strong. Alex always wanted his tea as strong as it could possibly be, but that was just because what he really wanted was coffee. When the Second Insurrection was over, Alex would be able to have coffee whenever he wanted, with as much sugar as he wanted. She smiled at that. Somebody would still have to limit Alex’s coffee intake, no matter what the political situation was, or he would be so wired all the time that he wouldn’t be able to function. That would probably be Eliza’s lifelong job. She wondered if Alex and Eliza would get married when things were back to normal.

Things may never be back to normal, whispered the demon of fear in her head, and she went back to the table and forced herself to follow a train of thought. It would be nice if Alex and Eliza got married. It was obvious that they were in love – well, it was obvious that Eliza was in love with Alex, and Alex certainly loved Eliza. The thing was that Eliza didn't love only Alex, and Alex didn’t love only Eliza. How do you work something like that out, she wondered. Maybe they’ve already worked it out, she reminded herself. Whatever squabbles there were among themselves, there was never any animosity between Eliza and John. What about Angelica? Something seemed to have gone wrong between Alex and Angelica last week. Eliza might know something about it, but, true to type, Eliza wasn’t sharing information that didn’t need to be shared. If Peggy wanted to understand what went on between them, she’d just have to observe Alex and Angelica closely when they came back. If they came back.

She gulped some tea, and it was still so hot it burned her throat. That was okay, though, because the sting at least took her mind in a different direction. Back to naming the children, she told herself, Alexander and Angelique, and then another boy. John, maybe, or Philip for her father, or both. Philip John Motier was a nice name. The next girl could be Elisabeth, with an _s_ because that was the French spelling. They could call her Lizzy, like in _Pride and Prejudice_. She’d been trying to read the book, but it was frustrating. What was the matter with Elizabeth Bennett? How could she not recognize how much Mr. Darcy loved her? Look at all the time they wasted playing games with one another. She was so grateful that she and Gil hadn’t done that. No games, no deception, just his hands on her face, and his eyes so clear and kind that it never occurred to her not to trust him. Maybe it’s because I was so young, she thought. I didn’t know how to do any of that clever romantic banter that filled three hundred pages in Miss Austen’s book. She knew that wasn’t it, though; it had nothing to do with her age. It was just that this was Gil, this was the man she loved, and there was no point in denying it.

Last night in his arms, she had been seized by panic.

“I don’t want you to go,” she had sobbed as he held her and stroked her hair.

“Sh, _chérie,_ ” he said softly, kissing her eyelids.

“Please don’t go,” she had begged, trembling and cold, even though they were wrapped in both blankets.

“Sh,” he whispered, his lips on hers, so that she felt more than heard him.

He slid his hand into her hair and held her against his shoulder. “I will go, _chérie._ You know that, and you know why. Remember when John was bleeding to death? When you said you would give him blood, what did you tell me?”

She was silent for a moment, then said, “That I had to do it.”

“Because you love John, and you would not let him die if you could save him.”

“Yes.”

“Then you understand why I will do this.”

She nodded, but she couldn’t speak, and he brought his hand around to cup her face, gently brushing her cheek with his thumb. “ _Ne pleure pas, mon coeur._ Don’t cry.”

She swallowed hard and barely got the words out. “Gil, what if …”

He shook his head. _“Non,”_ he murmured against her mouth. “Nothing is promised. Now is all we have, ever. Love me now.” He tilted her head back just a little and kissed her face, from her forehead to her chin, and finally her lips, beginning with incredible gentleness, and then with increasing passion, as if he would drive out her fear. “Now,” he said again, his mouth and hands demanding that she meet him halfway, as always. It was impossible not to respond to this man she loved so much, and she reached up to him, tangling her fingers in his curls, returning kiss for kiss and touch for touch. More than anything, she wanted him to want her as she wanted him. He looked down at her, his eyes bright. “Now. This is ours, now.”

“Yes,” she said, lifting her hips to meet him and pushing toward him, wanting all of him. He gave her everything she wanted, and took everything she offered. When they finished, she felt cherished and safe and whole, as she always did naked in Gil’s arms. He trailed his fingers gently across her cheek and her mouth, and she curled tightly against him, grateful beyond measure for his warmth and his strength.

Staring into her mug of weak tea, she tried to regain that feeling of safety, but it had vanished. Gil had gone into danger with the rest of them, pausing just one minute longer at the door to pull her to him and kiss her as passionately as he ever had in the privacy of their room. She had responded in kind, and Angelica had no doubt rolled her eyes. Somewhere on the edge of her awareness, she had heard Alex laugh, and John call out something about getting started, but none of that mattered. The moment was theirs, and then Gil was in the car, and they were gone.

It was only a day. They would be gone twenty-four hours, more or less. By this time tomorrow, they would be back, talking about how the mission went, bragging about it, laughing with one another. She would be sitting on Gil’s lap, kissing him so much that Angelica would tell her to cut it out, and Gil would answer her in French and pretend to have his feelings hurt, and they would all laugh, as they always did. When Gil came back. If Gil came back.

“Tatie,” called Katie from the bedroom doorway. She was standing there, her face still rosy from sleep, her Minnie Mouse blanket clutched close. “Tatie, I got up now.”

* * * * *

Alex parked the Kia in front of Grammy Nell’s house and looked around. As usual, the neighborhood was quiet, but John and Angelica got out first. They’d been there often enough that their presence wouldn’t alarm anyone if they were seen. Angelica unlocked the front door, and they went in. Alex, Gil, and Herc followed, carrying duffle bags that they got out of the trunk. It was cold inside. Alex had left the thermostat set to fifty degrees, enough to keep the pipes from freezing, but far from comfortable. He turned the heat on immediately, then complained about how cold it was for the next half hour.

By the time Tony and his guys got there, it was warmer, and Alex had made coffee. Tony had dropped everyone off and then parked the SUV a couple of blocks away. Both cars had had their plates changed recently and neither one would get attention in a residential area like this.

The duffle bags had been packed with guns, ammunition, dynamite, blankets and enough food for a couple of days. The plan was that they would be finished by morning, but they had to allow for contingencies. For now, there wasn’t much to do except review the procedures a few more times and try to get some rest. Angelica cut off Alex’s coffee after two cups, giving him something else to complain about, but she was hoping they could all get some sleep before eleven o’clock, when they would have to get started. She and Molly were working out a lottery for who would get the bed and the couch, because everybody else would have to do their best to sleep on the floor.

“Come on,” Alex said to Tony. “I want to show you the upstairs.”

They went up the narrow staircase, and Alex pointed out the two small bedrooms, one still containing Grammy Nell’s bed and chest of drawers, the other completely empty. The bathroom at the end of the hall still had the cheerful yellow flowered shower curtain and matching towels, which Alex and Gil had left behind.

“What do you think?” Alex asked.

“Well, it’s pretty small,” Tony said. “Not what she’s used to.”

“She’s not expecting what she’s used to,” Alex told him. “She just needs a safe place.”

Tony looked over the faded wallpaper and scuffed floor. “You think a rich Have is going to stay here? What if she gets disgusted with it and leaves? She has too much information about us.”

“First,” Alex said, “she won’t leave. She might be a Have, but she’s on our side. Second, other than the location of the house, what information would she be able to give anybody? She doesn’t even know our real names.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it. We already have approval from Headquarters to use the house. The General knows about Desi’s situation and is okay with her staying here, at least until after the baby is born. The baby is due about a month before Dolphin, and hopefully by summer, Desi and her baby can move on.”

Tony shrugged. “Fine, if it’s okay with the General, it’s okay with me. I’m not going to be the one who makes things difficult for the pregnant lady.”

Alex grinned at him. “You’ll like Desi when you meet her. Everybody does.”

“If you say so. I bet she’ll think the furniture’s ugly, though.”

“Hell, yeah,” Alex agreed, starting down the stairs. “Even I think the furniture’s ugly, and I have no taste at all.”

Angelica was standing in the living room with a bowl full of tiny pieces of paper. “Okay, listen up, guys,” she said. “Most of us are going to end up sleeping on the floor, but a few lucky people will get a comfy bed or the semi-comfy couch. Most of these papers are blank, but one says ‘bed’ and one says ‘couch.’ Whoever gets the one that says ‘bed’ gets to pick who they want to share the bed. It’s big enough for two if you don’t mind snuggling up, but most of us wouldn’t want to have to snuggle with a random person, so that’s how Molly and I worked it out. You don’t like our system, you automatically get the floor.”

“Damn, you are ruthless,” Alex said admiringly.

“I learned it from you,” Angelica told him with a smile.

“Line up and take a piece of paper,” Molly ordered before Alex and Angelica could go any further.

Alex was the first one in line and made a face as he looked at his blank paper. Liz went next and drew another blank, as did Joe and John.

“Fuck,” John muttered, “I was really hoping for that bed.”

He batted his eyelashes at Alex, who grabbed him and whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear, “The floor will do just fine, _mi amor._ ”

John blushed a little, and everyone laughed. Tony drew another blank, and then Herc yelled, “Oh, yeah! I got the couch!”

Gil was next, and got a blank. He shrugged. “Even if I got the bed, I would have to give it away because my wife is not here.”

“Please shut up,” Angelica told him. “We’re almost done here, and one of us is going to get to sleep in a bed.”

“Have you got the paper in your pocket?” Jack asked her suspiciously.

Angelica raised her arms over her head. “Feel free to search me,” she said, spinning around provocatively.

“Oh, girl, don’t give me any ideas,” Jack retorted, looking her up and down.

“Hello, I’m right here,” Molly interrupted.

“Right, I knew that. Just kidding. My turn.” Jack looked at his paper and held it up, grinning. “Hey, Molly, we’ve got a bed!”

“Yes!” Molly cheered. “Oh, unless you’d rather choose Angelica?” She was laughing, though, and Jack pulled her in for a kiss, whispering something that made her turn red and hide her face on his shoulder.

Alex and John claimed the empty bedroom, bed or no bed, and everybody else decided to sleep downstairs where it was warmer. They cooked the rice that they had brought, adding canned tomatoes and beans, ate the dinner and cleaned up the kitchen, making sure the blinds were drawn and there were no lights on that weren’t absolutely necessary. Phone alarms were all set for eleven o’clock, and they reviewed the plans one more time. By eight, they were wrapped in blankets and trying to sleep, Angelica and Liz in the kitchen, Gil in the hall, and Tony and Joe in the living room, where Herc stretched out on the couch. Everybody was a little keyed up, but they knew rest was important, and they wanted to be at their most alert later.

Gil lay with his head on his arm, wondering if he would ever again be able to fall asleep easily without Peggy. He wondered what she was doing. She and Katie were going to stay overnight at Tony’s cabin with Eliza and Ben. He was glad of that; Peggy would be less anxious with Eliza there. A brief prayer of “Keep them safe” passed unbidden through his mind before he could stop it, and he dismissed it immediately. He didn’t believe in God or prayer or any of that. It must be because he was back in Grammy Nell’s house, and that reminded him of Alex’s insistence that they say a prayer for her. He had agreed for Grammy Nell’s sake, because he cared about her, but it meant nothing to him. He stretched, trying to get comfortable on the hard floor, and finally started to drift off. Just before he slept, the thought came once more, “Keep them safe.”

* * * * *

Peggy and Eliza had made dinner at Tony’s cabin. Katie thought it was great fun to eat someplace other than home, and had run around exploring for the first half hour they were there. She reported back that this place also had beds and chairs and a potty just like their house. Peggy was startled to realize that Katie had never been there before. It shouldn’t have been so much of a surprise. They always kept Katie safe, and except for two or three shopping trips before she was old enough to talk, she had always been at the cabin, if not with Peggy or Gil, with one of the others in her “family.” She had put Katie to bed tonight in the room that Molly and Liz shared. Katie had giggled at the novelty of sleeping in the “big bed” with Tatie. What will it be like, she wondered, for Katie to have a big house to run around in, a room of her own, and eventually brothers and sisters – well, nieces and nephews, actually, but they would be like brothers and sisters to her? Katie seemed fine. She was happy and well-adjusted, she was learning letters with her alphabet book, she played with her meager supply of toys. Katie would be four in the fall. They should be thinking about pre-schools for her instead of planning to blow up buildings.

Peggy looked over at Eliza, who was sitting on Tony’s couch, knitting. She wondered if Eliza was feeling the way she was feeling, scared and shaky inside. Neither one of them had eaten much dinner. Ben was seated at the table, preoccupied with reviewing his supplies over and over, making sure everything was in its place. Nobody was in the mood for conversation. Peggy had brought _Pride and Prejudice_ with her, but she was fed up with Elizabeth and Darcy, dodging one another and hiding their true feelings behind polite phrases. She picked it up anyway, wondering why in the world Elizabeth had agreed to go visit the tiresome Collinses.

“You really like this book?” she asked Eliza, sitting down next to her on the couch.

“I love it,” Eliza smiled.

“You don’t think these people are annoying?”

“Which people?”

“Well, mostly Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. They’re in love, but they won’t even talk to each other.”

“Um, did you notice the title of the book? He’s too proud and she’s too prejudiced. That’s the whole story.”

Peggy flipped through the book. “They’re going to end up together, though, right?”

Eliza shook her head. “I’m not going to tell you. You’ll have to see what happens for yourself.”

“I don’t think they need three hundred pages to get to know each other.”

“Peggy, you’ve just dismissed every love story ever written. They’re all about overcoming obstacles to true love.”

Peggy wrinkled her nose. “I should stick to Harry Potter.”

“That would be great,” Eliza agreed. “Know where we can get a set?”

“I had all seven of them on my bookshelf in Albany,” Peggy said, tears coming to her eyes. It was funny the little things that would bring such a sharp pang of homesickness.

Eliza put down her knitting and hugged her sister. “I’ll get you more as soon as I can,” she said.

“They’re banned,” Peggy reminded her.

“They are for now, but they won’t be after the insurrection. You’ll be able to read them to Katie.”

“You think everything’s going to be all right, then? Aren’t you scared?”

Eliza took her hand. “Of course I’m scared. We’re all scared. But I believe that in the end, we’ll win. We have to fight this fight.”

“That’s what Gil said.”

“And that’s what you said, too, when you were lying next to John right there on that table, when you were willing to risk your life to save him. That’s what everybody is doing.”

Peggy smiled. “Gil said that, too.”

“See? I know you think Gil is right, because you think the sun rises and sets on him, so if I’m saying the same thing he is, then we’re both right, right?” She laughed at her tangled sentence, but Peggy nodded.

“Being brave is doing the right thing even if you’re scared to death,” Peggy quoted.

“Alex says that,” Eliza agreed.

They sat quietly for a minute, and Eliza picked up the half-finished sock again.

“What are you going to do afterward?” Peggy asked tentatively. “I mean, I know you’re going to go to law school, but what about you and Alex?” She was suddenly embarrassed for asking, and added, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Eliza looked over at Ben, who was still working on his checklists, not paying any attention to their quiet conversation. She sighed. “No, it’s okay. I don’t blame you for wondering.”

“I know you love him,” Peggy said.

Eliza nodded. “I do. I love him very much.”

“And he loves you.”

Eliza knitted a few stitches. “Mm-hm. But not only me.”

“I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“Angelica says the same thing.”

“It’s because we both love you.”

“Alex says it too.”

That was a little harder to respond to. “Is he warning you? Is he saying that he thinks he’ll hurt you eventually?”

Eliza smiled. “No, he's being honest with me. He loved John first. I was in love with Alex too, and then he started to love me, but he didn’t stop loving John. There was no way for me not to love Alex. For a long time, I tried, but it was killing both of us.”

Peggy put her arms around her sister. “Eliza, sweetie, why couldn’t you fall in love with some nice uncomplicated French guy like I did?”

Eliza’s eyebrow went up. “Gil is the last person I would describe as uncomplicated, but if that’s how you see him, fine. But anyway, I didn’t, I fell in love with Alex, who is very complicated, and here we are.”

“How long was it before you worked it all out?”

"More than a year. It wasn't an easy situation."

"Wow," Peggy said, her eyes wide. "How did you ... if you don't mind talking about it, I mean."

"No, it's okay." Eliza smiled again, looking back. "John's the one who figured it out."

“ _John?_ Wait, Alex and John were dating, and you were in love with Alex, so you were trying to stay away from him, and somehow John worked out the difficulties?"

Eliza thought back to that afternoon more than three years ago now. John sitting on the bed with her in her dorm room, his arm around her. Neither one of them had given it a thought, and somehow what happened next had seemed like the most natural thing in the world. She couldn't begin to explain to Peggy what it had been like to realize that Alex wasn't the only one she was in love with. "John helped me understand that it's possible to be in love with two people at once," she said now.

"Oh," Peggy responded, blushing.

"You love who you love, Peg," Eliza said gently. "There are plenty of people who say that there's no such thing as love at first sight, just like there are people who say a relationship has to be one man and one woman. We all love who we love, no matter what rules society makes up." She thought back to the night she and John told Alex, the two of them sitting hand-in-hand while Alex's face lit with astonishment and joy. After that -- well, after that, all the stress and guilt the three of them had been struggling with melted away. They loved each other, and that was enough.

Eliza and Peggy sat for a while with no sound but the clicking of Eliza’s knitting needles.

“And you’re all still okay with it?” Peggy asked.

Eliza nodded. “We're very much okay.”

“And Angelica?”

“She still hates it. She thinks Alex will end up choosing John over me, and she doesn’t want me to be hurt like that.”

“I always thought Angelica kind of had a thing for Alex herself,” Peggy ventured, wondering if she was stepping over any lines.

Eliza just smiled, though. “Oh, she does. She keeps trying to talk herself out of it, though.”

“Wow. Are you and Alex and John all planning to live together when the insurrection is over?” Peggy asked. “Don’t answer if you don’t want to.”

“It’s okay. I’m not sure what we’ll do, really, because we all need to finish school and find jobs. Alex and I will almost certainly be near the capital, somewhere along the Potomac. John could work anywhere if he’s an illustrator.”

“Including the Potomac area?”

“Of course. We’ll figure it out.”

Peggy leaned over and tipped up her sister’s face to look at her. “Are you okay with this, Eliza? Are you happy?”

Eliza kissed her cheek. “I am, Peggy, really. I love Alex and I love John, and they both love me. We balance each other out."

Peggy could see that. Alex was exciting, John was kind, and Eliza had enough common sense for all of them. They made it work.

Eliza looked at her little sister. “Peggy, sweetie, we’re not like you and Gil. What we have works really well for us. You don’t have to understand it or even like it, but I know you love us all, so please just accept it.”

Peggy blushed deep red, and threw her arms around Eliza. “I do!” she said. “Of course I do. And how could I ever not like something that makes you happy? I love you so much, and I love Alex, and John’s my new brother, so of course I want you all to be happy.” She hugged Eliza hard and kissed her cheek. “No more questions, I swear. Now tell me why I should like this stupid Mr. Darcy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all you're going to get, at least for now, about the Alex-Eliza-John backstory. I had planned to include more of the mission in this chapter, but it got too long, so that will be next.  
> Is anybody wondering why Eliza doesn't think Gil is so "uncomplicated"? What doesn't Peggy know about him?  
> I have some bonus writing time this week, so I'm trying to get the next chapter up within a few days.  
> Thanks, as always for kudos and comments, which really, really (I'm totally not just being polite here) keep me motivated.  
> I hope those of you who are getting a break this week are enjoying it, and those who aren't, I hope you are being paid well for your work.  
> Love and thanks to you all!


	33. Click Boom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four teams are out on a mission simultaneously. Action moves back and forth among the different teams.

The Delval Paper warehouse was half a mile downriver from the unfinished Folinsbee Parke condominium tower. Alex parked the Kia just south of the warehouse in the parking lot of a noisy all-night diner. They each carried a key to the car. Tony had had them made for just an occasion like this. If not all of them got out, at least the ones who did could get home. They walked north in two groups, Alex and Angelica holding hands like a couple on their way home from a date, Gil, John, and Herc like three guys who had been out drinking. The guys had backpacks and Angelica had an oversized purse. To any observer, they looked ordinary, but they held dynamite and detonators.

Alex and Angelica turned off at the warehouse, and the other three kept on going. When they were nearly at the condo building, they ducked into an alley. All three of them pulled their hoods up, and Gil handed his large backpack to John. He tightened the straps on the small one that held his medical supplies. John divided the explosives between his backpack and Herc’s. This site was likely to have the most security of any of them. They split up according to plan for reconnaissance.

Alex had walked once around the warehouse and came back to where Angelica was waiting.

“Is there a guard?” she whispered.

“I didn’t see one,” he said. “Could be inside, though.”

“If there is, and he hears us, he’ll call for help,” she reminded him.

“Mm-hm. If he hears us. We’re going to be very quiet.”

Alex couldn’t see Angelica roll her eyes in the dark.

* * * * *

John squatted on the ground behind the crane, hidden from both the tower itself and any passers-by who happened along at midnight. He scratched a rough diagram in the dirt with the end of a pencil, illuminating it with the lowest light possible on his phone screen.

“Okay,” he said, “here on the corner, we’ve got the trailer that’s probably got two guys in it. There’s probably a third guy patrolling. That’s one for each of us. What do you think?”

“That’s fair,” Gil said.

“I’m thinking we find the guy who’s patrolling first and take him out. Then we get the other two out of the trailer.”

“How?” Herc asked.

“Tell them there’s a fire,” John said. “One of us goes to the trailer door, acting a little bit drunk, you know what I mean. Tells them there’s a fire on the other side of the tower.”

“Kind of dumb, right, like ‘Hey, mister, your building’s on fire’?” Herc suggested.

“Yeah, you want to do that?”

“Fuck, yeah, I can do dumb,” Herc agreed.

“Okay, then, Gil, once Herc gets the guys out, we each take one from behind.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Gil said, knowing it wasn’t.

“We check for somebody on patrol first, though,” John told them. “We don’t know how long his round might be, so we’re going to give it twenty minutes. If you see him first, deal with him.”

They each had a roll of duct tape in their pocket. If all went well, that would be enough to keep the guard out of commission long enough for them to do their job.

* * * * *

Alex was fiddling with the lock using what looked like a couple of hairpins and a nail file.

“Do you actually know how to pick a lock?” Angelica asked him.

“Yep.”

“And you learned that where?”

“Misspent youth.” He gave one more gentle twist to the nail file, and there was a distinct click. Holding the file in place, Alex carefully turned the doorknob and slowly opened the door.

 _“Voilà!”_ he said.

“Well, fuck me,” Angelica muttered, slipping through the door, gun drawn.

The warehouse was dark and silent, but it was impossible to see any distance because of the enormous stacks of boxes and bins.

“This paper will burn like a son of a bitch,” Alex commented approvingly. “Good choice.”

They slid sideways along the wall, looking for an office or a desk where a guard might be, but could see nothing but shelves and boxes. It was at the end of the second wall that they found a glass-partitioned area that was apparently all there was by way of an office. It held a desk with a computer monitor on it, along with a couple of old filing cabinets and a mini-fridge. It was dark, and its door was locked. Evidently Delval Paper didn’t hire twenty-four hour security.

They finished their interior circuit of the warehouse just to be sure, but there was no sign of anyone else there. They heard faint skittering noises in the dark that they assumed were rodents. Nothing else.

“We go for the corners, then,” Alex said, “and a couple of those interior supports.”

“Detonation still set for three o’clock?” Angelica asked.

“Unless I hear otherwise. We’ll be ready early, so we’ll just have to hang out.” They were back at the corner near the door, and Alex started getting out the dynamite.”

* * * * *

John, Herc, and Gil had each taken a side of the condo tower to watch for twenty minutes; then they were going to move on to the next side for another twenty. It took more time, but they’d be sure to spot a guard by then. There was enough of the construction completed that the guard could well be inside for the entire night. He’d have to have a light, though, and they’d see that.

Gil stood in the silence looking methodically up and down the building. He saw nothing but darkness with geometric shapes outlined by the reflection of streetlights. Windows and balconies that led to rooms for rich Haves who didn’t deserve to live any better than anyone else. He blinked a couple of times, thinking maybe one of the reflections off window glass was an interior light, but there was nothing there.

Then there was. About five floors up, a faint light moving from right to left, a flashlight held by someone walking down a hall. He watched it, trying to ascertain the pattern. Whoever it was wasn’t skilled at trying to stay hidden – but then, why would he be? He was just a watchman doing his job, certainly not a Have himself, guarding a building he would never be allowed in. The light disappeared when it got to the left corner of the building. He would have turned down a hall to walk along the perimeter, so John would see the light on that side. Then he’d go across the opposite side, where Herc was watching, and finally back toward him on the right, the unwatched side for now. The question was whether the guard was on his way up or his way down the building. If he was on his way up, it would take a long time, and they might have to go in after him.

Gil walked to the left corner of the building and looked for John. He couldn’t see him, but there was a pile of stone blocks that had yet to be laid, and he knew John would be concealed in the shadows it cast. As he got closer to it, he could see a slightly different darkness in the shadow. He picked up a pebble and tossed it so it clicked against the stone. He saw the shadow move just a bit, but he still wasn’t close enough to risk speaking. He tossed another pebble, and John tossed one back. Gil smiled. Smart guy, John. He knew who it was. He walked closer, then slipped into the shadow next to John.

“You see him?” he whispered.

“Yeah. Fifth floor, you think?”

“That’s my guess.”

“Go get Herc.”

Gil kept to the shadows and walked on to the far side of the tower. There was no hurry. They had plenty of time before the guard made his way down. He went slowly, carefully, and when he rounded the corner, looked for a place where Herc might be concealed. There were no construction supplies stacked on this side of the building, but there was a dumpster. That made it easy. He tossed a pebble that bounced off the metal dumpster with a ping. He watched, but saw no movement. He took a few more steps and threw another pebble. He had barely heard it land when he felt a hand slammed over his mouth and something hard in the small of his back.

* * * * *

Angelica rolled out the last of the wire, and Alex shut the door as quietly as he could. She kept unrolling the wire until they were well away from the warehouse on the other side of a neighboring building that would protect them from the explosion. They sat on the concrete sidewalk in the shadows so they wouldn’t be seen. Alex got out the battery-operated detonator and connected the ends of the wires. All he would have to do at three o’clock was flip the switch. He sent the pre-arranged text to John, Tony, and Jack: “U up for a game tomoro arnd 3?”

“What time is it?” Angelica asked.

“One-thirty,” he told her.

“Damn, we’ve got a long wait, and it’s cold. Can’t we go back to the car?”

“No, and you’re supposed to be dressed for the weather.”

She shrugged. “I am. I just think it’s going to be boring.”

“Jesus, Angelica, we’re blowing up buildings in a major American city, and you’re worried about being bored? We’re going to sit here and hold onto the detonator. I’ll be happy to have a conversation with you to save you from boredom.”

“It has to be an interesting conversation,” she said.

“I’m always interesting.”

She didn’t answer, but sat there silently for a couple of minutes. Finally she said, very softly, “You’d better do everything you can for the rest of your life to make my sister happy.”

“What the hell brought that on?” Alex asked.

“Oh, God, Alex, you understand everything except yourself.”

“Okay, this is not a conversation we’re going to have now. We can’t get distracted while we’re sitting here about to detonate a shitload of dynamite.”

Angelica rubbed her forehead. “Yeah, you’re right. Maybe it’s not a conversation we’re ever going to have. Just – just give her the best life. Please.”

He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “Ange, I love her. I will do everything I can to make her happy.”

“Even after all this?” She waved vaguely at the warehouse. “Even after King is defeated and you’re some hotshot in the new government?”

“Yeah, even then. Come here.” He put his hand on her cheek. “I know how lucky I am. Eliza deserves every good thing in life. I will do everything in my power to see that she gets it.” He kissed her forehead. “I promise.”

“I won’t forget that,” she whispered, and he felt a tear, warm and wet, on his thumb.

He wiped it away, very gently. “Ange…”

She sniffed. “No, I’m okay, really.” She pulled away from him, and he heard her searching her pockets for a tissue.

“Ange, tell me …”

She blew her nose and then leaned back against him. “Oh, my sweet Alex, there’s nothing to tell.” She kissed his cheek softly and sat up straight, wrapping her arms around her knees. It was going to be a long night.

* * * * *

“It’s a good thing I could see your hair in the dark,” Herc whispered, “or you’d be out cold.” He moved his hand and Gil took a gasping breath.

 _“Putain!”_ he spat. _“Putain de merde!_ Fuck you!”

“Shut up! You want somebody to hear you?”

Gil took another breath and shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.

“You weren’t paying attention,” Herc told him, his voice barely audible.

Gil knew that. He didn’t need to be reminded. He had been so focused on trying to see into the shadows that he hadn’t been listening as carefully as he should have. He didn’t say anything, still breathing hard. _Connard_ , he thought to himself. That’s how people get themselves killed.

“Hey,” Herc murmured. “You good?’

“I was careless,” Gil said.

“Yeah, but it was me.”

“I could be dead.”

“You’re not. Don’t be so damn dramatic.”

That brought a reluctant laugh, at least. “Yeah, thanks for not killing me.”

“You were looking for me, I assume?”

“Yeah, we’ve got to get back to John.”

Herc followed him around the corner of the building, staying in the shadows and they joined John crouching in the shadow of the stone blocks.

“What took so long?” John asked, annoyed.

“Herc jumped me,” Gil responded, his voice halfway between ashamed and defiant.

John snorted. “Teach you a lesson?”

Gil’s teeth showed white in the dark. “Yeah.”

“Okay then.”

“What’s up?” Herc asked.

John jerked his head toward the building. “Watchman with a flashlight. Just went down a level to the fourth floor. We’re going to go in and meet him, take him down, tape him up. Stairs are there, on the northeast corner.”

They scrutinized the building. No moving light was visible now, since the watchman was making his rounds of the fourth floor and had reached the other side of the tower.

“How long for each round?” Gil asked.

“Twenty, twenty-five minutes,” John told him.

“Shit, that’s another hour at least,” Herc said. “We don’t have time to wait for him to get to the first floor.”

“Right,” John agreed. “We’re going to meet him as he gets to the second floor. Bottom of the stairs, one of us will come in from behind, one from the side.”

“Who stays here?” Herc wanted to know.

“You,” John said. “I need you to watch the trailer. If there’s any noise, they may hear it, or the guy may have a panic button. Use your gun if you have to.”

Herc nodded. A couple of gunshots might or might not go unnoticed in the middle of the night along the waterfront.

John put his hand on Gil’s arm. “Come on. We’re going in.”

* * * * *

Jack had made his second circuit of the old brick factory building and still had seen nothing. He knew why he’d drawn the assignment least likely to have difficulties. He was working with the two newbies, the least experienced squad members. In his opinion, it would have made more sense to let Tony have either Liz or Joe, but Tony didn’t want Jack and Molly working together in what could be a dangerous situation. Jack understood that, although he was sure that he and Molly could handle it. Not his decision to make, though.

Joe and Liz were both high on adrenaline, practically bouncing in their shoes. They were ready to go charging in, guns blazing, and the hardest thing Jack was going to have to do tonight was keep them in check. It wasn’t going to take a major military action to capture an abandoned building with half its windows broken.

They were on the shadowed side of the building where a couple of the windows had all their panes broken. Jack used his jacketed elbow to knock out the thin, half-rotted wooden muntins that fell inside, with a faint thud and tinkle of glass shards. They crouched below the window on the outside to be sure no one had heard anything. The only sound from inside was the scratching of rats’ feet running from the noise.

“I’m going in first,” Jack said.

“I should go,” Liz volunteered. “I’m smaller. I can get in easily.”

Jack looked at the large opening he had created. “I’m pretty sure I won’t have a problem here, Liz,” he said drily.

“Yeah, okay.”

“You two keep an eye out while I go in,” Jack reminded them.

Liz and Joe realized they were both staring at Jack instead of their surroundings and immediately turned away from him.

“Damned kindergartners,” Jack muttered, but not loudly enough for them to hear him. He boosted himself up, slid his legs in the window, and landed on his feet inside the empty factory.

* * * * *

With the condo tower only partly completed and full time security on duty, getting into the building wasn’t a problem. The problem was avoiding construction debris in the dark without making noise. John used his phone at the lowest light setting and kept it directed to the floor where scraps of wood and nails were scattered. “Sloppy work,” he muttered.

Gil shrugged. He wasn’t interested in the workers’ habits.

They made their way painstakingly to the northeast corner where the stairs were. They were only roughed-in, a temporary staircase with treads but no risers. That meant they had to be extra careful, as a missed step could easily mean a broken ankle. Staying low, and keeping the light aimed down and toward the interior, they crept up to the second floor and reconnoitered. The stairs came into what appeared to be a wide common hall. On both sides there were roughed-in rooms which were undoubtedly intended to be luxury condos at some point. Drywall work had begun, but doors hadn’t been hung yet. It was by chance the best set-up they could have hoped for.

John pulled Gil back into the corner behind the stairs. “I’ll be back here,” he whispered. “I’ll come on him from behind as he takes a step into the hall. You’ll be in that room.” He pointed off to the right. “If he’s got a gun, it will likely be in his right hand. I’ll take him down, you deal with his hands.”

Gil nodded. “How are you going to take him down?”

“Garrote,” John said, pulling a thin leather cord out of his pocket, “but I’m going to try not to kill him.”

“Okay.” Gil put out his fist. John flashed him a grin and bumped it with his own.

They got in position and stayed silent for what seemed like hours before they heard him coming down the steps. He was slow. Gil was positioned so that he had only a narrow strip of the stairs visible. Any more and the guard might see him even in the dark. He heard him step by step, but couldn’t see him because the guard was staying close to the wall. He got to the bottom of the stairs and took about two steps before John was on him, so fast that the guy didn’t have a chance. He went down like one of Katie’s block towers, slamming into the floor, and then Gil had his knee on the guy’s sternum and the barrel of his gun under his chin.

“One word, you’re dead,” he said.

The guy whimpered a little, the whites of his eyes showing. His neck had an ugly red line where he had been taken down with the garrote. John ripped off a strip of duct tape and taped his mouth shut, then shoved him into a sitting position, Gil moving his knee just enough, but keeping the gun steady. John pulled the guard’s hands behind his back and taped them, then taped his ankles. They shoved him against the wall in a sitting position, and John shone his phone light over him. The name on his pocket was Warren. He looked pathetic. He was probably in his fifties, bald and paunchy. He was shaking and had already wet his pants.

Gil stood up, wrinkling his nose fastidiously. “Jesus, Warren, we didn’t even hurt you,” he said in disgust.

John snorted. “Probably didn’t need both of us.” He turned to the terrified-looking man sitting on the floor. “Listen, Warren, we want some information from you. I’m going to ask you some questions. You just shake your head yes or no. My friend will keep his gun aimed at you. We have more people outside, and if you lie to us, one of us will come back here and kill you. Is that clear?”

Warren nodded, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Are there two guys in the trailer?”

Warren nodded again, his eyes darting back and forth between John’s face and Gil’s gun.

“Do they have guns?”

Warren did something weird like a yes-no movement with his head.

“What the hell does that mean?”

He did it again.

“Wait, does one of them have a gun?”

Warren nodded vigorously.

“Okay, so one guy is armed and the other isn’t, right?”

Warren confirmed that with a nod.

“Is there a panic button in the trailer?”

No.

“Do they have panic buttons on their phones?”

No.

“You guys are running a pretty bush-league operation here, aren’t you?”

Warren wasn’t sure if he was supposed to answer that or not, so he gave a faint nod of agreement.

“Is the trailer door locked?” John continued.

Warren shook his head no.

John and Gil looked at each other. That was too good to be true. On the other hand, Warren clearly understood that his life was on the line and seemed eager to cooperate. He wasn’t faking the trembling or the smelly pants.

“Hang on a minute,” John said, and walked a few yards down the hall. He went into one of the unfinished units and checked it out, then went on to another and did the same thing. He came back to where Gil was still holding his gun aimed directly at Warren’s head and grinned. “No plumbing in this place yet. If Warren needs to use the bathroom, he has to go to the trailer. Easier to keep the door unlocked, right?” He looked at Warren, who nodded again. “All right, I’m going to tape you up a little tighter, and we’re going to leave you here for a while. If all goes well in the trailer, we’ll be back to get you. If not, you’ll still be here when the building blows up.”

Warren’s eyes grew even wider, and he began making grunting noises and trying to thrash around, thumping his heels on the floor.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Gil muttered, and whacked him on the side of the head with the butt of his gun. Warren fell over sideways, still conscious, but silent, with a trickle of blood running from his temple.

John yanked him back into a sitting position and crouched down in front of him. “Warren,” he said patiently, “all we needed to do was tape you up to keep you quiet and make sure you stayed here. We really, really don’t want to hurt you or kill you, but understand that we have work to do and we will do what we have to do to succeed. That includes killing you if necessary, but honestly, we’d rather not. You got that?”

Warren nodded weakly.

“So just stay calm, and we’re good.” He wrapped several more lengths of duct tape around Warren’s legs and arms, and propped him against the wall. “See you later,” he added, sketching a wave, and he and Gil went down the stairs, Warren staring at their backs and breathing unevenly.

* * * * *

Jack helped Liz through the window and left Joe outside to stand guard. They did a quick walk around the interior perimeter, but the building was basically empty, any manufacturing there having ceased years ago. They placed the dynamite in each corner and next to three central support posts, and were rolling out the last length of wire when Joe climbed in the window. Jack had his gun out in less than a second.

“What’s wrong?” he asked tersely.

Joe looked bewildered. “Nothing,” he said. “I mean, nothing was going on outside, so I came in to see if I could help.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jack snapped, “I left you outside as a fucking guard. If I wanted a fucking assistant, I would have said so. Get the fuck out there and do your fucking job.”

Joe turned without a word and was back outside in seconds, but Jack was furious. “We could have been compromised while he was in here,” he muttered. “No way to know who might have come along in that half a minute. Goddam amateurs.”

“Amateur,” Liz corrected.

“What?”

“Amateur, singular,” Liz said, pale but standing her ground. “Just him.”

Jack looked at her, then nodded briefly. “Fair enough,” he said.

They ran the wire out the window and to the other side of the next building, then connected it to the detonator. Jack texted Alex “Ok ill be there.”

* * * * *

Herc was waiting for them downstairs. “Took you long enough,” he said.

John gave him a brief explanation, and outlined the plan to disable the two guys in the trailer.

“Herc, you and I go in, dead quiet, take a quick look on low light, then we each take one. Gil, you stay outside on guard. We’ll yell if we need you.”

It was over in ten minutes. The guys in the trailer were completely unprepared for any problem, both asleep in their underwear, one on the bunk in what would have been the living room of the mobile home, the other on a bed in the back. The trailer hadn’t even been properly redone to serve as a construction office. It was just a cheap mobile home that someone had shoved a desk into. They found the lone gun on the kitchen counter, three yards away from its owner, and therefore useless. There were no alarms anywhere. The two guys, whom Herc immediately nicknamed Moe and Larry, looked about as fit and professional as Warren. Moe, the youngest of the three, had straight dark hair falling over his forehead, and Larry had strands of frizzy gray hair in what would probably be a comb-over when he had time to get dressed up. Once they were duct-taped with Gil guarding them on the front room bunk, Herc and John hauled a grateful Warren down from the second floor to join them.

“Here’s Curly,” Herc announced, tossing Warren onto the bunk next to his co-workers. For extra security, John taped them together as well as individually, and then he, Gil, and Herc spent the next hour and a half laying out the dynamite and wire. When that was done, he texted his response to Alex’s message: “yah, c u then.”

They were standing between the condo tower and the trailer. John looked back and forth a few times, then said with a sigh, “We’re going to have to get those guys out of there, because the building might fall on them.”

 _“Tu sais, mon ami, j’en ai marre de ce Warren_ ,” Gil told him.

“English, Spanish, no French,” John reminded him.

“I’m tired of Warren,” Gil translated.

“Yeah, but we’re not going to kill him just because he irritates you. Is there a truck or something around here that we can move them in?”

Herc shook his head. “Not that I saw, and I walked around while you guys were inside. Maybe it’s parked on the street somewhere.”

“Jesus Christ, and they call this a construction site. It’s like something put together by middle school kids.” Disgusted, he went back to the trailer and addressed the three terrified guards.

“Any of you got a vehicle around here?”

Moe nodded energetically.

John stared at him and considered for a minute. “We don’t have time to play guessing games. We’re going to have to untape his mouth for a minute and find out where the car or truck is and where the keys are. Gil, remind Moe here what happens if he doesn’t do what I tell him.”

Moe looked nervously at Gil, who took out his gun, held it to Moe’s temple and said with icy calm, “I will kill you.”

“You clear on that, Moe?” John asked.

Moe nodded, trying to move his head as little as possible.

John said, “You don’t make a sound until I tell you to.” He ripped the tape off Moe’s mouth, and Moe gasped and whimpered a little from the pain, but shut his mouth immediately.

“Good,” John told him. “Now you’re going to give me one-word answers only. You got a car or a truck?”

“Truck,” Moe said in a high squeaky voice.

“Open bed?”

Moe nodded.

“Okay, good. Make?”

“Toyota,” Moe squeaked.

“Where is it?”

Moe thought hard about how to answer that in one word. “Street,” he offered.

John rolled his eyes. “No shit. Name of the street?”

“Poplar.”

“Check that,” John said to Herc, who pulled out his silk map.

“Right here, a block north,” Herc said, showing John on the map.

“Okay, good. Where are the keys?”

Moe did some more heavy thinking and jerked his head toward the door. “Hook,” he said.

There were three hooks next to the door with various sets of keys on them. Herc grabbed the ring that had the Toyota key on it. “I’ll go,” he said.

“Fast,” John told him. “It’s two-thirty.”

Herc jogged off and had the truck back and parked right outside the trailer in ten minutes. After all his work taping them together, John had to cut the three guards apart, so that they could carry each one of them like a rolled up carpet and toss them into the back of the Toyota pick-up.

“You guys take them a couple of blocks up,” John said. “I’m going to roll out the wire as far as I can and hook it up to the detonator, but I won’t be able to get that far.”

“What do you mean?” Gil asked

“I’ll be fine,” John told him. “I’ll be behind that pile of stone blocks.”

Herc looked at him. “There’s not enough wire, is there?”

“It’s okay,” John said. “I’ll flip the switch and run like hell.”

Gil grabbed John’s arm. “We can’t let you …”

John shook him off impatiently. “I’m lead. You do what I say. You take Larry, Moe, and Curly here and drive them away. I’ll meet you two blocks north at about three-oh-five.”

Gil and Herc held out their fists and John bumped them. “To the revolution,” he said lightly. “Now get the fuck out of here.”

* * * * *

Tony and Molly had had a hell of a time getting into the electronics warehouse because it was a digital lock, but after lengthy consultation with Alex by phone, they had made it, and the building was wired. Tony was the first to flip his switch at exactly three o’clock. The Rem-Con electronics warehouse went up with an earsplitting boom, and as they looked upriver, it was followed almost instantaneously by three more explosions, with fires that made the river glitter like a lava stream. Tony grabbed Molly and swung her around.

* * * * *

“Yes!” Jack yelled. “We did it!” Joe and Liz jumped up and down and screeched like a couple of kids, and he didn’t even try to stop them.

* * * * *

“How about that?” Alex said to Angelica, grinning. “I told you that paper would burn.” Flames were shooting out of the Delval warehouse like rockets.

“Yeah,” Angelica agreed, her eyes reflecting the flames, “you were right. You’re always right.” She kissed him lightly, smiling.

* * * * *

The condo tower had fallen in on itself and all the scattered scrap wood was feeding the conflagration. Gil and Herc stood in front of the truck looking south. The blast had thrown concrete and rebar into the sky. Their eyes scanned the fire, and it was so bright that it was a couple of minutes before they saw him, running toward them, silhouetted against the orange flames, his hand held to his forehead and blood streaming down his arm, but alive and _laughing._ He came up to them out of breath, and Herc grabbed him first.

“You okay?”

“Fuck, yeah,” John told him, still laughing. “Just a little scratch, right Gil?’

Gil moved his hand and looked at the deep, jagged cut across John’s forehead.

“Damn you, John,” he said, “I’m going to have to stitch you back together again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It looks like this important mission has succeeded, but remember the explosions were only to get attention. Now we'll find out how much popular support the Movement has among the people.  
> Alex's and Tony's squads came through this mostly safely, although John will need some medical attention. They still need to "rally the people, to call them to arms." (wrong musical, but you know what I mean)  
> You'll be happy to know that our guys get to go back to the cabins for a while at least, so Gil and Peggy are reunited before the next mission, but Alex has the General's approval to put Grammy Nell's house to a new use, and Gil might find that he has some unexpected medical duties. That's all in the future, though, so I don't want to get too far ahead of myself. Just enjoy the explosions for now.  
> Thanks to all of you who keep reading, and especially to those who take the time to click on kudos or leave comments. I really do love hearing what you think of this tale.  
> I'm taking advantage of extra writing time this week, although I may have to leave my computer for a little while, as my family claims they've forgotten what I look like (sorry, love you, but I'm having fun here!). I should be updating at least twice a week for the near future now, though, so stay tuned. Love to all.


	34. In Front of a Crowd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The squad members rally the citizens to support the Movement. Angelica sees a familiar face. Gil makes sure John's face stays beautiful.

“You don’t have time to stitch me now, Gil,” John argued, carelessly wiping his bloody hand on his jeans. “I’ve got to talk to people. Just stick a bandaid on it or something.”

“Sit down and shut up, John,” Gil said, pulling things out of his medical bag. “I can’t put a bandaid on a ten-centimeter long cut.”

“What’s that in real measurements?” John asked, trying to wipe the dripping blood off his forehead with a corner of his tee shirt.

“About four inches, and for God’s sake, sit still. And don’t wipe the cut with that dirty shirt.”

“Hey, Herc!” John yelled. “Cut those guys in the truck loose. Gil’s making me sit here.”

“Cut them loose? Just let them go?”

“Yeah, we just needed them out of the way. Doesn’t matter who they call now.”

John was right about that. The sounds of sirens seemed to be coming from all directions, but they were a few blocks away from the burning building, and no emergency vehicles were heading down this street. Herc shrugged and went to release the three security guards they had restrained with duct tape, while Gil wiped down John’s forehead with Betadine solution.

“I’m just going to butterfly this until I can get you in some decent light back at the house,” Gil said, sticking carefully cut pieces of tape every half inch along the laceration that went from the end of John’s left eyebrow diagonally up to his hairline. “What the hell hit you, anyway?”

“Fuck if I know,” John shrugged. “I ducked down behind that pile of blocks when I threw the switch, and all kinds of things went flying through the air. Then I stood up to get a better look, and there was another boom, and something whacked me on the head. It was kind of funny, really.”

“Yeah, hilarious,” Gil agreed dryly, as he covered the injury with a clean bandage and tried to tape it. “Listen, this is too close to your hair for the tape to stick, so I’m going to wrap the bandage around your head to keep it in place.”

“Whatever,’ John said impatiently. “I’ve got to get going.”

Herc had finished the tedious job of cutting yards of duct tape off the three guards, and they were climbing stiffly out of the truck bed. They all looked around warily, not sure if they were really free to go.

“Hey, you guys!” John called to them. “Come here.”

Gil finished the bandaging and taped the ends down. With tangled curls spilling over it and blood seeping through it, the bandage made John look like a kid playing pirate. He flashed his friendliest smile as the three guards approached nervously.

“Listen, we’ve got nothing against you guys,” he said. “You were just doing your jobs. It’s the rich Haves that own the building and will live in it that we’re fighting against, not you. We just had to get you out of the way.”

The dark-haired one that Herc had called Moe jerked his head at Gil. “He said he’d kill me.”

“I know,” John nodded, “but he wasn’t going to kill you. We had to make sure you’d cooperate. See, he just bandaged me up here. He’s a doctor – he helps people, he doesn’t kill them.”

Moe looked Gil up and down, unconvinced.

“We’re fighting for ordinary guys like you, not against you,” John said.

“So we can go? Can I take my truck?” Moe asked.

“Absolutely. Thanks for letting us use it.” John held out his hand. Moe stared at it for a minute, then turned and walked away, but Warren stepped forward.

“You the Movement?” he asked. “Is that what you’re called?”

“Yeah,” John told him. A few yards away, Moe started his Toyota pick-up and peeled away from the curb, leaving Warren and Larry to fend for themselves.

Warren turned to Larry and nodded.

“My boy’s in the Movement,” Larry said diffidently.

“No shit? Here in Philly?”

Larry shook his head. “Down in Virginia. He was going to college down there, got interested in things and joined up. I don’t see him much, but he stays in touch. He says this Movement is really going to change things.”

“He’s right,” John said. “King will have to go, and then there will be free elections where everybody can vote, and we’ll have a government that the people chose.”

“Like with President Washington?” Warren asked.

John nodded, his curls bouncing over the bandage. “Just like that.”

“I think King had President Washington killed,” Warren said.

“A lot of people think that,” Herc agreed, joining the conversation.

“My boy’s boss, the – what do you call it, squad leader?” Larry continued.

“Yeah,” Herc said, smiling.

“He knew President Washington. They came from the same part of Virginia.”

“Really?” Herc asked, knowing perfectly well who that squad leader must be.

“He’s not allowed to tell me the guy’s name. He says they all call him Ginger anyway, because of his red hair.”

“Is that so?” John asked, laughing. He’d be sure to throw that in TJ’s face next time he had the chance.

“My boy’s name is Billy,” the guard went on, “Billy Jenkins. I’m Will Jenkins.” He held out his hand, and John stood up.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Jenkins,” he said, shaking the man’s hand. “I know you’re proud of your son.”

Will Jenkins stood up a little straighter. “I am,” he said. “He’s doing the right thing. So are you guys. No hard feelings – you did what you had to do.”

“This is only the beginning,” John told him. “I hope that when we come back, you’ll stand with us.”

“I will. And I know some other people who will too, a lot of people.”

“Me too,” Warren said. “I’m with you too.”

“You tell people about us, okay?” John urged them. “Tell them that we’re going to rise up. King can’t take our freedom away, no matter what he says or what his Greaters do.”

“That’s right!” Jenkins agreed. “He’s held us down too long.”

“Rise up!” John declared.

“Rise up!” they repeated.

“You guys better get going,” Herc broke in. “Feel free to tell the truth about what happened tonight, but we’d appreciate it if maybe your descriptions of us were a bit vague.”

“We can manage that,” Warren told him.

“You okay getting home?” John asked.

“Yeah, we’re good. We can get a bus a couple of blocks over,” Jenkins said. “And if you see my Billy or talk to him or anything, let him know I think he’s right. I wasn’t always sure.”

“I think we can get that message to him,” John promised.

The two guards gave them brief waves and walked away.

“Who would have thought?” Gil murmured, shaking his head.

“All credit to John,” Herc commented.

“Absolutely,” Gil agreed. “We need to get John in front of a crowd.”

John grinned. “I bet there’s a crowd down by the condo building.”

The sky along the river was still lit up by the raging fires that the two squads had started. Despite the sirens, it didn’t look like much effort was being made to put them out. Gil wondered if that was because the city didn’t have enough emergency resources. That would be a good thing to find out more about.

“You want to go take a closer look?” he asked.

“Fuck, yeah!” John said.

* * * * *

Alex and Angelica were mingling with the crowd that had gathered to watch the paper warehouse burn. There was a single fire truck on the street aiming a thin stream of water at it, but it was useless. Thousands of boxes of paper products were providing so much fuel that flames were shooting through the roof, long orange banners against the night sky.

“What do you think started it?” Alex heard somebody say. He turned around and faced the speaker, a skinny, dark guy about his own age.

“We started it,” he said. “We’re with the Movement, and we started the fire just like we’re going to start the Second Insurrection. We’ll be back soon, and we’re going to bring down King and ensure free elections. The people will choose the next President.”

The skinny guy looked around nervously. “You serious?” he asked.

“Completely serious,” Angelica told him. “None of us are free until all of us are free. Tell everybody that we’re going to rise up.”

The guy nodded. “Yeah,” he said. He turned to a group of other young men a little behind him. “Hey, Dave, Hugh, come here. The Movement started this fire. I told you they were going to change things.”

“Who says?” either Dave or Hugh wanted to know.

“I say,” Alex said, holding out his hand. “You can call me James. I’m with the Movement and we did this not to destroy a building, but to show all of you and King’s Greaters what we’re capable of.”

“David,” the guy with the baseball hat introduced himself, shaking Alex’s hand. “My cousin Hugh,” he added, as the shorter, stockier man also shook Alex’s hand, and then Angelica’s.

“I’m Roger,” the skinny one said. “We want to see free elections. We want to be able to work at any job we want, buy what we want in the stores.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Angelica agreed. “We’ll all rise up together.”

David and Hugh were talking to other people, and the crowd was getting thicker around Alex and Angelica. Most of them looked interested and eager to hear more, but Alex was wary. He needed to be sure there was a direct route out. There was a low cinder block wall on the edge of the lot they were standing in, and he climbed up on it to get a better look. A quick glance showed him that he could get off the lot and on his way to the car in seconds if necessary, so he stayed on the wall and raised his voice.

“We’re going to rise up!” he shouted. “Tell your brothers to rise up!”

Angelica reached her hand to him and he pulled her up onto the wall with him. “Tell your sisters!” she called. “We’ve all got to rise up!”

“Nobody’s free until we’re all free! Rise up!” Alex yelled.

The crowd took it up and shouts of “Rise up!” came across the lot spreading like the glowing sparks that the night wind lifted from the burning building. Alex and Angelica raised their arms, hands joined, and led the chant.

* * * * *

Tony and Molly were talking to anybody who would listen, telling them about the Movement and its dedication to a free government. “Good laws under a free government, remember?” Tony said.

“President Washington said that!” agreed an older woman with glasses and a shabby coat.

“We can’t have good laws without a free government,” Molly said.

“She’s right! King’s government is only for the Haves, not for the rest of us,” a tall man declared.

“Under a free government, everyone has equal rights,” Tony said. “The Movement is committed to free elections and a government chosen by all the people. That’s how we’ll get good laws.”

“Listen to this guy!” the tall man yelled, pointing to Tony.

More people came up and asked questions, and Tony and Molly answered as many as they could. The electronics warehouse fire was starting to subside, but the acrid smell of burning plastic was thick in the air. Tony took a quick look at his phone and realized it was almost time to get back to the car.

* * * * *

Jack had encouraged Liz and Joe to do as much of the talking as possible. They were so filled with enthusiasm that it was contagious, and there wasn’t a person within shouting distance that didn’t hear about the Movement. Shouts of “Rise up!” filled the air.

* * * * *

Only one fire truck had appeared at the condo tower, and it had left after an unsuccessful attempt to get the hydrant to function. Now John was standing on the hood of somebody’s car, silhouetted against the still-raging fire, his bandage already discolored with soot and blood, but his eyes shining. Gil and Herc hardly spoke at all except to answer some questions. It was John’s night. The fire that brought down the buildings was nothing to the blazing honesty of his words. “Nobody’s free until we’re all free! Rise up!” he shouted until he was hoarse, and the crowd shouted with him. Hands reached up to grasp his, and everybody that touched him got a smile that they would remember for years. John promised that things were going to change and they believed him. When he finally jumped down from the car, people tried to hug him. He returned as many hugs as he could, but Gil and Herc had to run interference, since it was getting late. They headed back south along the river toward the paper warehouse, trailing a sizable crowd of cheering citizens. Before they saw Alex and Angelica, they heard more shouting and realized that they too had roused the local residents. John spun around and walked backward for a few feet, calling back to the crowd who by now wanted to carry him on their shoulders. Gil put a hand on his shoulder and turned him before he fell, and then leaned over. “How are we going to get to the car with a few hundred people following you?” he asked.

John shrugged. “Alex will know,” he said.

When they got to what was left of the paper warehouse, Alex and Angelica were still on the wall. John leaped up and joined them, and the two crowds of citizens merged, greeting one another with enthusiasm. They had found a common cause, and they were ready to support the Movement however they could.

“We’re going to have to leave in a few minutes,” Alex told the crowd, and there were groans and shouts of “Stay!”

“We have work to do,” he went on. “We’ll be back soon …” he didn’t get a chance to finish because Angelica grabbed his hand and jumped off the wall, yanking him with her.

“What the hell?” he muttered, as she pulled John down too.

“What’s the matter?” Gil asked.

Angelica looked around wildly. “Sadie Shippen!” she gasped. “In the back, with two other people.”

“Shit!” said Alex, and “Fuck!” said John simultaneously. Herc put his hand on his gun, ready to draw.

The throng of people, not understanding what was going on, started yelling questions. Gil jumped up on the wall. He didn’t know Sadie Shippen by sight, but he scanned the back fringes of the crowd and saw a girl who clearly didn’t fit into this group of ordinary, shabbily dressed Deplos and Hopes.

He called to Angelica, “Skinny blond, short black skirt, fancy purse?”

Angelica nodded. “She’s with a girl in a red dress and a guy with a fedora.” Even under the circumstances, she rolled her eyes at the pretentious fedora.

“She’s on her phone.”

“Fuck,” said Alex. “We’ve got to get out of here.” He looked into the crowd and swiftly took charge. “Hey, Roger, Dave, Hugh, can you help us out here?”

“You bet,” Roger agreed, stepping forward. “What do you need?”

“There are three people back by that chain-link fence who are going to be trouble for us – a blond girl in a black skirt, another girl in a red dress, a guy in a stupid hat. Can you guys just keep them occupied until we get to our car? Don’t hurt them, but it will be okay if you break a phone or something.”

Roger and his friends grinned, delighted that they had been given a job to do. “You got it,” Roger said. Hugh and David began to make their way through the crowd, and Roger followed them, throwing back over his shoulder, “See you soon!”

“Herc, go get the car,” Alex directed, and Herc, hood up, loped off toward the diner.

“Stay low,” Gil ordered from his place on the wall. “It doesn’t look like they’re trying to get closer.”

“That’s because they’re waiting for the Greaters to get here,” John muttered.

“The guys are back there talking to them now,” Gil reported, as Roger, Dave, and Hugh stepped up to Sadie and her friends, apparently asking them questions. The two girls and the guy in the fedora took a couple of steps backward, as if intimidated, and Gil grinned. “They’ll handle them,” he added.

“Yeah, but she already called,” Angelica told him, and her statement was confirmed by sirens wailing in the distance.

The Kia came around the corner way too fast and screeched to a halt at the curb. They ran for it, John last, grabbing a few more hands and yelling, “Rise up!”

Herc hit the accelerator before the doors were closed and raced toward the chain-link fence.

“What the fuck?” Alex had time to get out before Herc took the corner on two wheels and sped past Sadie and her friends, giving them a big grin and a wave as he went by. Roger, Dave and Hugh laughed out loud, and Sadie stood open-mouthed, glaring after the car.

“You jackass!” Alex yelled at Herc, but he was laughing. They were all laughing, partly reaction and partly relief at getting away before the Greaters arrived.

“You think Roger and his friends will talk to the Greaters?” Gil asked.

“Oh, definitely,” Alex responded. “They’ll tell them how we were picked up in a black Honda driven by a skinny bald guy.”

John laughed. “By the time the Greaters get done questioning everybody, they’ll have two hundred different descriptions.”

“It won’t really matter, though,” Angelica pointed out. “Sadie knows it was me for sure this time, and she must have recognized Alex and Herc, maybe John. Gil’s the only one she wouldn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Alex said. “We’re all already on the wanted lists. If this confirms that we’re part of the Movement, it’s really nothing new except that now they know we’re in the area.”

“That’s not a minor thing, though,” Gil reminded him.

Alex shrugged. “Dolphin is in less than three months. King knows his days are numbered.”

The dawn sky glowed pink in the east by the time Herc had completed his circuitous route back to Grammy Nell’s and parked on the quiet street. Tony’s squad was already there, Joe and Liz dying to talk about every detail, everybody else just drinking coffee or trying to rest. Jack and Molly had announced that they still had a claim on the bed and had gone upstairs to sleep, “Or whatever,” Tony said.

Alex gratefully took a cup of coffee and dumped all the available sugar he could find in it, then briefed Tony on how his squad’s part of the Mission had gone.

“Successful, then,” Tony agreed.

“Except for being spotted by Sadie fucking Shippen,” Alex commented.

“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” Tony told him. “Once we took on a high-profile Mission, at least one of us was going to be recognized. They have our pictures and descriptions all over.”

“Yeah, but my hair is short in those pictures,” Alex pointed out.

“Same face, though,” Angelica reminded him.

“Speaking of long hair,” Gil said, “where’s John?”

“On the couch,” Herc reported, “the couch that I won fair and square in the lottery.”

“Get him out here,” Gil directed. “He needs to be stitched.”

“What?” Alex asked, startled. “I saw the bandage, but I didn’t realize …”

“I’m fine,” they heard John protesting from the living room. “It doesn’t even hurt.”

Gil raised an eyebrow at Alex. “ _Tu veux t’en charger?_ ” he asked.

“ _Bien sûr,_ ” Alex agreed, and went to get John.

There were a few minutes of argument in a mixture of English and Spanish that ended with Alex declaring, “Gil says you need stitches. Now are you going to get into the kitchen on your own, or am I going to throw you over my shoulder like the _niño mimado_ you’re being?”

A minute later, John shuffled sulkily into the kitchen, Alex behind him.

“I’ve got to stitch that,” Gil told him.

“It’s fine,” John argued.

“I can leave it if you want,” Gil offered. “Maybe you think a half-inch wide scar will make you look tough?”

“Half an inch?” John asked.

“By four inches long,” Gil reminded him. “I can’t give you an exact prediction, but it will look a lot better if it’s properly stitched. And it’s on your face.”

Alex put his arm around John’s shoulder and leaned in. “And it’s such a beautiful face,” he murmured.

John tried to shove Alex’s arm away, but he was laughing. “Okay, Dr. Gil,” he conceded, “keep me pretty.”

Gil banished Alex from the room and told John to get up on the kitchen table. They all had an eerie sense of _déjà vu_ at that, but Gil said he’d have the best light and the best position for stitching John’s face there. Angelica was called on to assist once more, although she didn’t have much to do this time. Gil removed the temporary butterflies, cleaned the cut, and closed it with tiny, meticulous stitches across John’s forehead. It made an almost-straight diagonal line from left to right, cutting through the scattered freckles like a comet through stars. Gil smiled at his completed work. John was still going to be beautiful.

“Don’t get it wet for a couple of days,” he advised.

“Really? I’ve got to wash my hair,” John told him. “It’s full of blood and stuff.”

That was certainly true.

“Okay,” Gil conceded, “if you can keep the cut dry.”

John rolled his eyes at that and called for Alex, and within a short time, they had worked out an arrangement on the kitchen table, Alex wetting John’s hair with a basin of warm water, washing it with Liz’s shampoo, and rinsing it very carefully with more warm water, keeping the cut dry, just as Gil had asked. Gil, leaning on the counter across the room, watched them, watched Alex touch John gently and tenderly, as if he were a beloved child. The always-in-a-rush Alex had infinite patience with John, carefully dabbing a washcloth along his hairline to be sure the stitches stayed dry. He toweled John’s hair until it was damp, and then ran his fingers through it, playing with the curls. John swung down off the table and sat in one of the kitchen chairs, drinking coffee, and Alex stood behind him, hands on John’s shoulders, tucking the curling strands behind his ears as they dried, bending down now and then to kiss a random curl or John’s cheek or forehead.

Gil, who was the least sentimental of them all, felt his throat tighten. John would always be careless of his own safety, and Alex would always be the one who took care of him. Alex was perfectly aware of that, knowing that he couldn’t keep John from putting himself in danger, and therefore cherishing the moments like this one, John safe and protected under his hands. Seeing his devotion made Gil long for his girls. The Mission was over now, successful for the most part, and all he wanted to do was go home.

 _“On part quand?”_ he asked Alex.

Alex looked up from contemplating John’s beauty and caught Gil’s smile. He smiled back. “ _Vers le soir,”_ he said, “ _pour profiter du trafic.”_

Gil nodded. Getting on the road in the early evening when everybody was headed home from work made it less likely that cars would be checked. They still had a couple of hours. “If you guys aren’t going to be using the empty bedroom,” he said, “I’m going to try to get some sleep. I want to be awake when I see my wife.”

Alex raised an eyebrow and laughed at that, but he said, “The blankets are still on the floor.”

Gil went upstairs and kicked off his shoes. He picked up one of the familiar gray blankets and rolled himself up in it, his head pillowed on his arm. It was uncomfortable as hell, and he knew he’d be stiff when he woke up, but he thought of the night ahead with Peggy in his arms and willed himself to sleep, dreaming of his lovely girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So except for everybody's identity being compromised (!!!), the Mission was a success. The fight is out in the open now, and we haven't seen the last of the obnoxious Sadie Shippen.  
> I want to thank those of you who are still reading, after what I thought would be around a 100,000 word story has passed that and still has a long way to go. I'm so grateful for your continued interest and your evident affection for these characters. The whole gang and I want to wish you a very happy New Year. May 2017 be filled with all that you are hoping to find there.  
> Lots of love from Alex, Angelica, Eliza, John, Herc, Gil, Peggy, Katie, all of Tony's squad, Desi and Burr -- and of course, me, Daisy <3 <3 <3


	35. Somebody Has to Stand Up to his Mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Identification confines Alex, Angelica, John, and Herc to the cabin for a while. Alex is understandably angry about this and argues with pretty much everybody. Alex and Tony make plans to move Desi and look for another staging area before Dolphin. TJ is consulted. Alex has another project on his mind. Gil and Peggy go to the lake and discuss their future. Gil reveals some information.

King’s response to the successful Mission was immediate and punitive. On the day after the Mission, new “public safety” measures were announced. First, there was a harsh crackdown on public gatherings. Any public gathering of more than three unrelated people had to be approved at least ten days in advance and granted an Assembly Permit. Within a few days, arrests would be made of ordinary people doing things like chatting with one another on the street or getting together in a restaurant for a colleague’s birthday. Of course, those arrested were always Hopes or Deplos, never Haves. Next, citing the terrible destruction of property “despite the heroic efforts of our courageous firefighters,” King declared that taxes to support emergency services had to be raised. Since it was the Hopes and the Deplos who used a disproportionate share of emergency services, he said, it was only fair that they should bear the brunt of the taxation. People like Will Jenkins and Warren, Roger, Dave, and Hugh, were hit with hefty tax increases, leaving them even less to live on. Finally, King announced that a crack team of investigators from his highest-ranking Greaters had uncovered the identities of the treacherous seditionists who had brought this destruction on their fair city. The people, mostly Haves, who still had media licenses, saw photographs of Alex, Angelica, John, and Herc on their TV screens, and everyone else saw them posted on walls and fences, accompanied by dire warnings of how dangerous they were. The squad didn’t have access to TV, of course, but Headquarters sent them copies of the photos by phone.

Late in the afternoon of the next day, Alex got an anxious coded text from Desi “What is going on??” and Headquarters issued an order that the four squad members whose faces were now known to everyone in Philadelphia, if not the country, were to stay underground until further notice.

Alex, predictably, lost his temper, and tried to get General Akhdir on the phone personally. The General, knowing him too well, handed him off to Dr. Barron, who spent the next hour trying to reason with Alex in two languages. Alex contended that if he just got a different haircut, no one would recognize him from the pictures. In the meantime, the General communicated with Tony, who knocked on the cabin door while Alex was still on the phone arguing.

Peggy opened the door for Tony, who found Alex pacing and shouting into the phone in French, Angelica yelling at him to sit down and tell Dr. Barron to call back later. Herc was silently shaking his head and making more tea, and John was helpfully throwing out comments like “Investigators, my ass! Sadie fucking Shippen!”

Tony looked at Gil, who was standing in the kitchen, leaning on the counter. “The General wants me to talk to Alex,” he said.

Gil snorted. “Good luck with that, _mon ami._ ”

“ _Non, je suis pas d’accord!_ ” Alex snapped into the phone, as he acknowledged Tony’s presence with a nod.

“For the love of God, shut up,” Angelica implored. “You’re making it worse.”

“Stupid fucking Shippen bitch!” John muttered, looking murderous.

“Tea?” Herc asked Tony, holding out the ugly cow mug.

“Sure,” Tony agreed, and took another couple of minutes to assess the situation. He would be able to talk to Gil, Eliza, and Peggy. Herc seemed calm, but Herc always seemed calm, even when he completely disagreed with somebody. Tony took a sip of the tea, and turned to Gil. “Can you get him off the phone?” he asked.

Gil considered for a minute. “Maybe.”

Tony gave him an encouraging nod. “Could you try?”

Gil sighed. Talking Alex down was not a job he enjoyed. John and Eliza were both better at it than he was, but John was as mad as Alex, and Eliza had remained silently disengaged, knitting socks while everything was going on. Probably because she knows better than to intervene when Alex is this wound up, he thought. He took another swallow of tea, smiled wryly at Peggy, and walked over to Alex. He stepped in front of him to stop his pacing, and put his hand gently on Alex’s shoulder. _“Ça suffit, mon frère,”_ he said.

As he expected, Alex slapped his hand away and glared at him.

“ _Raccroche,”_ Gil continued calmly. _“Tu peux reprendre plus tard.”_

 _“Je préfère finir,”_ Alex snapped between his teeth. _“Fous-moi la paix!”_

“ _C’est déjà fini,_ ” Gil told him. _“Raccroche.”_

Alex turned on his heel and walked away, evidently listening to Dr. Barron. Gil took a couple of steps and stood in front of him again. The cabin was so small that there was nowhere for Alex to retreat.

“Alexander,” Gil said softly, “you know better.”

Alex chewed on his lip, silent. Finally, he nodded.

 _“Merci, Monsieur,”_ he said into the phone, his voice carefully controlled. _“Je vous parlerai bientôt.”_ He clicked the phone off, and put it carefully down on the table. He stood staring at Gil coldly and finally said, “You are a pain in the ass.”

“Quite possibly,” Gil agreed, “but how long were we supposed to let you piss off everybody at Headquarters? You want the General to think you’re too hot-headed to run a squad?”

Alex ignored the question and looked around the room as if he was unaware of everybody else in it. “Is there any coffee?” he asked.

“Tea,” Herc told him.

“Can I have the heart mug?”

Herc handed Alex tea in the requested mug, and Alex took it to the table and sat down.

“I really think,” he began, “that with some clever hair styling and, say, sunglasses, we could easily go into the city unrecognized.”

“Stop right there,” Tony told him. “Do you realize the General called me and sent me up here because Dr. Barron couldn’t get a word in edgewise? You actually think it’s a good policy to argue with orders to the point that the General himself needs assistance to shut you up?”

Alex chewed his lip some more. “That’s why you’re here?” he asked Tony.

“It’s not a social call. Look, it’s not like nobody can go into the city. My whole squad is still available, and you’ve got Gil, Peggy, and Eliza. I know you think nobody can blow their nose without your direct supervision, but for the love of God, have a little respect for your people. Anyway, it’s only a couple of months until Dolphin, so you’re going to be going soon.”

Alex nodded. “Was the General mad?”

Tony snorted. “Furious,” he said, “but he knows you. He said he knew you’d lose your mind when your picture was shown on TV.”

“Did you see those pictures?” Alex demanded. “They deliberately picked the worst pictures ever. I look like a criminal.”

“I think that was the point,” Angelica interjected. “They wanted us to look as evil as possible.”

Alex drank some tea. “I have stuff to do in town,” he said.

“Are you thinking about Desi?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, we’ve got to get her out of Jimmy Prevost’s house before Jimmy gets back. Desi’s smart and efficient – we just need to give her a deadline, and she’ll be ready to go, but we’ll need to help her move her stuff. I don’t know how much she’s got.”

“You know we can handle her move even without your presence, right?” Tony asked, trying not to sound too sarcastic.

“I guess,” Alex conceded with a half-hearted shrug.

“Put the stuff in the van, drive to the other house, unload. Ask Desi where she wants the furniture. Anything else I need to remember?” Tony inquired.

Alex looked into his tea mug, trying not to smile. “I guess you’ll be able to manage,” he finally said.

Tony shook his head. “And you call _Gil_ a pain in the ass?”

“Okay, fine, I get it,” Alex agreed reluctantly, still not liking to admit he was in the wrong. “Just let me know when you want to do it, and I’ll be sure she’s ready.”

“Is Burr going to live there with her?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, he’ll have to,” Alex said. “The baby’s due in another month, so she shouldn’t be alone. Here’s the thing, though, Tony, if we’re using Grammy Nell’s as a safe house for Desi, we can’t use it as a staging area for Dolphin.”

“I know,” Tony agreed. “I’ve been thinking about that. Do you have other connections in town?”

Alex shrugged. “I’ve met Burr’s sister Sally, but I don’t know how committed she is, or what she might know about available buildings. Seems unlikely to me.”

“Wait a minute!” John said, standing up. He looked at Gil and Herc. “What about Will Jenkins? We know we can trust him, with his son in the Movement. He’s been working for a construction company. He might know of empty buildings or houses in the area, or at least might be able to find out for us.”

Alex nodded. He’d heard about John’s success with two of the three security guards that they had dealt with. “Can we get in touch with him?”

“Should be easy,” John told him. “His son Billy is in TJ’s squad.”

“No kidding?” Alex asked.

John nodded, grinning. “And when you talk to TJ, be sure to call him Ginger.”

Alex sent a coded message to TJ and about half an hour later, he got a call. After a brief exchange, TJ put Billy Jenkins on the phone, and he gave Alex a number for his father.

John, standing by Alex’s side, said, “Let me talk to him.” Alex handed him the phone.

“Hey, Billy, this is John. I just wanted to tell you that we met your dad, and he’s a hell of a guy. He wanted me to give you a message.” There was a pause, then John went on. “Well, actually, I had to tie him up with duct tape, which isn’t the best way to meet somebody, but later on, I was able to explain to him why we did it. Listen, man, he is really proud of you. No kidding. He told me to tell you that, and to tell you that he knows you’re right, even if there was a time he didn’t agree.” Another long pause, and John brushed his hand over his eyes. “Yeah, you should be. I might be seeing him soon, and I’ll tell him you said so. Thanks for helping out. Rise up!” John handed the phone back to Alex, not even aware that they were all looking at him until he noticed the silence. He shrugged carelessly and said, “What? The kid should know his dad’s proud of him. It’s important.”

Peggy left Gil’s side to throw her arms around John. “I love you,” she said, sniffing a little. “You are the best brother ever.”

John laughed. “Just remember, you’re stuck with me,” he reminded her and went to get some tea.

“Maybe we should let John run the whole operation,” Alex suggested, having hung up without even remembering to call TJ Ginger.

“Nah,” Herc responded, “he’d waste too much time trying to make friends with the Greaters.”

“You know, I bet some of them are really fed up with what they’ve been doing,” John agreed, coming back from the kitchen.

“Maybe, but we’re not going to put you in charge yet,” Tony told him. “Okay, Alex, we’ve got to work out when we’re going to get Desi moved, and you’re going to get in touch with this Jenkins guy about another building, right?”

Alex nodded. “And there’s another thing…” He paused. “How long before the General’s not pissed at me anymore?” he asked.

“Oh, I’d give it forty-eight hours,” Tony said. “The General is a remarkably level-headed guy, really. You may drive him nuts, but for some reason, he still likes you.”

“That’s the way a lot of people feel about Alex,” Eliza commented, speaking for the first time. She smiled at Alex, and he smiled back.

“Should I thank everybody for putting up with me?” Alex asked, putting on a humble expression.

“Yes,” Eliza said.

“Very well, then.” Alex stood up and made a bow, and said very formally, “I would like to beg pardon of all my dear friends and express my gratitude for their tolerance of my obnoxious temperament.”

He got a mixtures of applause and hoots, but they were all laughing. Tony said he’d be back the next day to talk about Desi’s move and left. John and Herc started dinner. Alex persuaded Eliza to put down her knitting and sit with him on the couch for a few minutes. Katie got up from her nap and wanted Aunt Angelica to read to her from her alphabet book.

“You okay with her if Peggy and I go for a walk?” Gil asked Angelica.

“Sure,” Angelica told him. “We just never get to L because K is her favorite letter.”

Gil smiled and tossed Peggy her jacket, put on his own, and grabbed his gun. It wasn’t quite dark yet, and they’d still be able to see the sunset over the lake.

“ _Ah, mon petit mouton,”_ he said, sitting on the flat rock with Peggy on his lap. “I love them all, but sometimes they exhaust me.”

She leaned against his chest. “Mm, me too. We should get used to it, though, because that’s probably what it’s going to be like having six kids.”

“We’ll have a bigger house,” Gil promised, kissing her hair. “A much bigger house. With a private master suite, of course.”

“Of course,” Peggy agreed, smiling. “What will we have in the master suite?”

Gil raised his eyebrows. “Don’t you know?” he asked. “A very large bedroom, with a king size bed, naturally. A very, very nice bathroom. Would you like a – what do you call it, a bathtub that bubbles?”

“A Jacuzzi?” Peggy suggested.

“Maybe that’s it. A big shower, too,” he continued, “so that we can shower together when we want to.”

Peggy closed her eyes, trying to imagine it after nearly three years of the tiny stall shower they all had to use. “Oh, that would be nice.”

“And then also, of course, the master suite would have a nice sitting area where we could just be comfortable and talk or maybe read or listen to music,” Gil went on.

“And that’s just the master suite, right?” Peggy asked. “Do the kids all get their own bathrooms too?”

He considered for a minute. “I think they can probably share, so only two or three bathrooms for the kids.”

“Okay, I guess they’ll be able to manage.”

“Maybe though, Katie should have her own bathroom, as the oldest.”

“How many bathrooms are we up to now, four or five?”

“Oh, no, we’ll have to have more than that,” Gil told her. “We haven’t even discussed the guest rooms, and certainly the housekeeper will need her own private suite.”

“Oh, right, we can’t forget the housekeeper,” Peggy giggled.

Gil stopped and looked at her. “Do you think I am just pretending?” he asked.

Peggy sat up straight. “Um, yeah,” she said.

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her. “My dear little sheep, have I ever told you I want to give you everything you ever wanted?”

She blushed, thinking of the circumstances under which he usually said that. “Yes, you have, but I didn’t think you were talking about housekeepers.”

He laughed out loud. “All this time, you love me just for me, right?”

“Of course.”

“You know I have some money, though, right? And a castle?”

“Well, yes, but you said it’s a small castle …” She still wasn’t sure if he was serious.

He nodded. “That’s true, as castles go. Still, it’s bigger than most houses. Not that we’re going to live there, but I want you to have a better idea of what we can actually afford.”

“So we really can have a big house with six bedrooms?” Peggy asked.

“ _Ma chérie,_ we can have any house you want.”

Peggy frowned. “Any house?”

“ _Oui.”_

She looked up at him, still frowning. “Gil, are you, like, really, really rich? Like a millionaire?”

“ _Chérie,_ I thought you knew. Back when we were in the apartment, when we were using my trust fund, you know there was always enough money.”

“Yes, but we weren’t spending much. I knew there was plenty of money for our life then, but now we’re talking about something completely different. A big family and all the expenses that come with that, clothes for growing kids, and dance lessons, and braces. My parents were pretty well off, but we managed with two and a half bathrooms.”

“And we could too if we had to. Look, we have lived with one bathroom for eight people for all this time, and we have survived, and I have never, never heard you complain about any material thing that you don’t have. You have never said that you wish you could have prettier shoes or have your nails done or even go to a concert…”

“Because what we’re doing is important,” she broke in.

“Yes, but when this is done – and I believe it will be done soon – you should have all the things that you have gone without, every small thing that you never mentioned, and every other thing that I can think of for you.”

“Gil, that’s crazy. Are you going to rush out and buy me diamond earrings and an emerald necklace?”

“Of course,” he told her quite seriously, “and a very big house with more than six bedrooms, and a very nice new car. We’ll need two cars, actually. And we will employ at least a housekeeper and a nanny, and probably a full time gardener because I don’t want to mow the lawn.”

“Servants?” Peggy asked in a slightly choked voice.

“Well, usually we would say ‘household employees.’ The term ‘servant’ is a bit out of date.”

“Of course it is.” She sat there, staring at the red reflection of the setting sun in the lake, trying to grasp what Gil was talking about.“And you seriously have enough money for all of that, including the diamond earrings?”

“Oh, yes. Much more than that, actually. It’s just been accumulating more for the last two and a half years because I haven’t been able to access it.”

“You’re sure it’s still there?”

He nodded. “Very sure.”

“How do you know?”

“ _Chérie_ , surely you know by now that our Alex has his ways of getting information?”

“Does anybody else know?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I think everybody else understands as you did that I have plenty of money, just as we know John has family money, and we also know that Herc grew up with very little money.”

“So you’re a what – multi-millionaire?” she asked, feeling uncomfortable even saying it.

He shrugged. _“Oui. Tu comprends, chérie, c’est à nous._ It’s our money, not my money.” He put a finger under her chin and tipped her face up. “ _Pourquoi ça t'inquiète?”_

“It’s just – I don’t know, really. It’s going to take some time to get used to.”

He picked up her hand and kissed her fingers. “ _Tu sais, chérie,_ there is a verse in the Bible, you know the Bible that I do not believe and do not read, but they made me study it when I was a child. It says _'l'amour de l'argent est une racine de tous les maux.'_ In English, 'the love of money is a root of all the bad things.'”

“The root of all evil,” Peggy amended. “It’s like a proverb in English. I didn’t even know it was from the Bible.”

He smiled. “Yes, the same thing, but it’s not the money that brings evil, it is the love of money. We can do good things with money, not just for our own family, but for others. Eliza will be helping people legally who lost everything under King. We can help them financially, maybe set up a foundation to do that. Give to charities and sponsor scholarships. There’s so much we can do for those who have suffered.”

She was almost overwhelmed. “That much?”

He nodded, watching her face.

She put her hand on his cheek and kissed him. “You are a good man, Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette.”

He pulled her closer. “All the names and I am not even in trouble,” he murmured.

“A housekeeper and a nanny,” Peggy mused.

“Don’t forget the diamond earrings,” he reminded her. “ _Vraiment, chérie,_ I thought you knew.”

“I knew you had money,” she said. “I just didn’t realize it was that kind of money.”

“It will be all right,” he assured her. “I grew up with it, and I am okay, right?”

She laughed at that and smiled up at him. He was Gil and he was hers, and he was the most amazing man in the world. He was already everything she needed. She leaned against his shoulder, and he pulled her as close as he could.

“I love my sisters,” she said, “and I love John and Alex and Herc. They’re our family, and they’ll always be our family. But I think I’m ready for us to be on our own.”

He tilted her face up and kissed her slowly and softly, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other sliding through her curls and down her arm. “Too damn many clothes,” he murmured, his lips barely moving against hers.

“Too cold,” she told him.

“Oh, _chérie,_ I could make you warm,” he whispered, slipping his hand inside her jacket and unbuttoning her jeans.

“I know you could,” she agreed, “but unless you have a condom in your pocket…”

He sighed into another kiss, and reluctantly withdrew his hand. “ _Merde,_ ” he said without anger. “How long until bedtime?”

“Not long,” she told him. “I promise I’ll make it worth the wait.”

He smiled that smile as they stood up and he took her hand. “Oh, my Peggy, every minute of every day, I know how lucky I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The real Lafayette was fantastically wealthy, using his own funds to to help finance the American Revolution. Gil can buy Peggy anything he wants.  
> Alex's next real mission is (mostly) secret (from the rest of the squad), and I'm having some difficulty getting the details of that to come together smoothly. That probably means that the next update will take a while, but please be patient because there is SO MUCH STUFF going on. The "secret" mission will affect one of the squad members in a particularly complicated way. No more info for now.  
> Thanks so, so much for staying with this long story and especially for caring about these characters so much. Thanks for the kudos and comments, and please keep talking to me. I love hearing from you!!!


	36. Try to Get Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desi and Burr move out of Jimmy Prevost's house. They and the squad turn out to have some mutual acquaintances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter that took so long. I was down with a virus developed by Voldemort himself, I swear. Better now and moving on, along with the Movement.

Reluctantly, and only with Tony’s prodding, Alex decided that Gil and Peggy would go into the city to get Desi moved to Grammy Nell’s house. Jack and Joe would accompany them to help with heavy lifting and anything else that might have to be done. Alex gave Gil what was left of the valuables that they had found in Grammy Nell’s house. He was to get them to Burr’s sister Sally, who seemed to have a lot of contacts in the black market community.

John painted a moving company logo for the van, and they all wore jeans and sweatshirts. Peggy carried a clipboard and some official-looking papers that John had produced, and they pulled into Desi’s driveway at nine o’clock in the morning. Desi explained to Gil that she had tagged various pieces of furniture around the house and they could start loading it.

“I think it will take at least two trips,” she said apologetically. “There’s a lot.”

“No problem,” Gil told her and took Jack and Joe with him to decide what they would load first.

Desi was eight months pregnant by now, and Burr was following her around as it he was afraid she’d try to pick up the couch to help. After a few minutes she chased him away.

“Aaron, sweetie,” she said, “can you please go make some coffee? We’ll all have some, then you guys can start loading the van.”

Burr nodded reluctantly, but asked Peggy to keep an eye on her.

Peggy grinned. “Is he driving you nuts?” she asked.

“Totally,” Desi admitted, rolling her eyes. “I love the man, but I can’t convince him that I’m not made of glass.”

Peggy laughed, wondering if Gil would be like that when she got pregnant.

Desi looked at her for a minute, and then said hesitantly, “You’re Peggy, aren’t you?”

Peggy had been introduced to her as Maureen. While Alex, Angelica, John, and Herc may have been outed, the rest of them were still using their cover names.

“What do you mean?” Peggy asked, praying she wouldn’t be betrayed by a blush.

“I’ve learned a lot about the Schuyler sisters,” Desi said softly, putting her hand on Peggy’s arm. “I already suspected that Allison was Angelica before the story broke on TV. Then I remembered how emotional Sandra was when Alex talked about the Schuyler family. I tried to get more information, and I found out a little bit. I think Sandra is Eliza, and that means you must be Peggy, the one who saved her baby sister.”

Peggy did blush then, and her eyes filled up, but she didn’t say anything.

“I understand,” Desi told her. “I just … ever since I heard about the baby, she’s been on my mind. I can’t help thinking about her because I’m going to have a little girl too. It would mean a lot if you … if maybe you knew someone who knew she was okay.”

Peggy looked up and nodded. “She’s fine,” she said. “She’s three and a half now, and her favorite color is purple, and she loves turtles.”

Desi burst into tears and threw her arms around Peggy, and they were both standing there crying when Burr walked in with two cups of coffee.

“Um,” he said, put the coffee down, and left again.

He came back with Gil and Jack a few minutes later. By then, Peggy had started to giggle, and they found her and Desi half-crying, half-laughing, and still hugging.

Gil put his arm around Peggy and asked softly, “Is everything all right?”

Peggy nodded and blew her nose. “I need to talk to you guys,” she said. She took Gil and Jack into the hall and explained what was going on.

“Is there any point at all in continuing to use the cover names?” she asked. “With four of us outed and Desi and Burr on our side anyway, I think it’s kind of useless now.”

“We didn’t discuss it with Alex and Tony,” Jack said cautiously.

“Best judgment in unexpected situation,” Gil reminded him.

“I don’t have a problem with it,” Jack shrugged. “If she figured out who Peggy is, she might as well know who you are. It’s not like she can know one of you without the other.”

“I’ll get Joe,” Gil volunteered. “It should be unanimous.”

Jack agreed, and when Joe was asked for his opinion, he said he was tired of being Noah anyway because of all the stupid ark jokes. The vote being taken so that they could assure Alex and Tony that they had followed procedure, they went back into the living room and reintroduced themselves.

Burr took the news with his usual composed demeanor, but Desi shed some more tears. “Happy tears,” she assured them, wiping her eyes. “Also, pregnant ladies cry a lot.”

Burr looked at Gil over her head and nodded agreement to that. They took a few minutes to drink the coffee and get acquainted. Desi wanted to hear all about Katie, and to hear the whole story about how Peggy had run away with her. That led, of course, to her hearing about how Peggy had been hidden in Gil’s apartment as Adrienne, which meant that she started asking questions about how they got together.

“But you knew him before that, right?” Desi asked. “I mean, as your sisters’ friend?”

“Nope,” Peggy replied, blushing and shaking her head till her curls bounced.

“So you just moved in with him, like, as a friend, for safety?”

“Not exactly,” Peggy told her, blushing even more.

Desi turned to look at Gil, her eyes narrowed. He was grinning. “You want to rescue your girlfriend here, sir?” she demanded.

“Wife,” Gil corrected.

Desi took a few seconds to absorb that and turned back to Peggy. “I _really_ want to hear the rest of this,” she said.

Jack laughed. “That could take a while, so how about if we load the van while you two chat about love and babies?”

“Are you putting the women in their place?” Desi asked suspiciously.

“Not at all,” Jack said, “but you can’t lift anything, and most of the furniture weighs more than Peggy, so she can’t move much either. It’s just more efficient this way.”

“And Peggy can keep an eye on you,” Burr added. “The baby’s due in a few more weeks. You have to be careful.”

“I will be,” Desi promised, as if he hadn’t already said that fifty times today.

The guys got the van loaded and took it to Grammy Nell’s house, which was several miles away. Alex had told Desi how small the house was, but it looked like she was bringing extra furniture anyway. They unloaded everything, using the empty bedroom for all the things that didn't fit anywhere else, and went back for the second load. They were thrilled to find that Desi had used her Have cards to get pizza for everyone. She almost cried when she saw how excited they were.

“I haven’t had pizza in two years,” Jack said, just staring at it.

“You should eat it,” Desi encouraged him.

Jack took a bite, and then another, and they ate the pizza and talked about being able to eat out once in a while in the future.

When they got the second load in the van, Gil and Jack took it to Grammy Nell’s. Desi and Burr went over the house one more time to be sure everything they wanted to take was out of it. They stood near the front door and looked around the mostly empty room.

“Won’t Jimmy be surprised?” Desi commented lightly.

“Furious is more like it,” Burr said dryly.

“What do you mean?” Peggy asked.

“The furniture was his, just like the house,” Desi responded with a smile.

“Oh, my God,” Peggy said, wide-eyed. “You’re taking his furniture?”

Desi shrugged. “I left him everything he needs. There’s a bed and a dresser upstairs, and a couple of chairs and a couch down here. And I left all the electronics, because I won’t have a media license.”

Joe was looking at Burr, and Burr gave him one of his rare grins. “My girl takes no prisoners,” he said.

“Jimmy Prevost,” Desi added with a smile, “is a son of a bitch. He’s lucky I didn’t burn the house down.”

Burr and Desi drove to Grammy Nell’s house in Burr’s car, and Peggy and Joe followed in Desi’s. Everything had already been unloaded, and Desi directed them to move things from one room to another. There was too much for the small house, but with the spare bedroom and the shed for storage, they found a place for everything. Once they had things set up so that Burr and Desi had a bed for the night, they took a short break in the living room. Grammy Nell’s couch and upholstered chair were still there, and Desi had added two more large chairs, an ottoman, and a bookshelf. There was actually room for everyone to sit down. Gil grabbed the biggest chair and sat down with Peggy on his lap.

“If you only knew the fighting that goes on over the one comfortable chair we’ve got at the cabin!” Peggy laughed.

Gil settled in and pulled her close. “I think we should get one like this for the sitting area of the master suite, _chérie,_ ” he said.

“That would be nice,” she agreed.

“The master suite?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We’re going to have a big house,” Peggy told him.

“Six kids,” Gil added.

“Oh, right, I keep forgetting,” Jack said, giving Burr and Joe one of those _they’re crazy_ looks.

“Six?” Desi asked. “You haven’t been pregnant, have you?”

“No …,” Peggy said, a little uneasy at Desi’s tone.

“It’s not that bad, really,” Desi said with a reassuring smile. She looked up at Burr who was next to her on the couch. “I’ve been fine.”

“We plan on having them one at a time,” Gil pointed out, which made Peggy giggle. “We’ll know when we have enough.” He and Peggy looked at each other, the look that said, _I love you. I trust you._

“Jeez, I can see why you two drive Angelica crazy,” Jack muttered.

Gil gave him a serious stare. “Don’t mock love,” he ordered in his very best exaggerated French accent.

That made them all laugh, then Gil moved on to a different topic. “Desi, you won’t have a phone after today. How are you going to get in touch with Burr if you need to go to the hospital?”

“We’ve got that all worked out,” Desi said. “Aaron is still allowed a phone, so he’ll leave his phone here when he’s at work. I can call him on his office phone. The only time we won’t be in contact is while he’s in the car.”

“It’s not a long commute,” Burr added. “Maybe twenty minutes.”

Gil frowned at that.

“First babies are usually a pretty long labor, right?” Desi asked him.

“Usually. Where are you going to have the baby?”

“We’re not actually sure,” Desi responded, looking at Burr a little uneasily. “I was registered at the Blodman Clinic, but they only take Haves, and I’ll lose my status the minute Jimmy sees the house. It’ll take him about five seconds to call Judge Shippen.”

Peggy and Gil both jumped at the name.

“Jimmy knows Judge Shippen?” Gil asked.

Desi frowned. “Well, yeah, Jimmy works for the government. Besides, Judge Shippen is from here in Philly, so everybody knows him. I went to high school with his daughter.”

“Which daughter?” Peggy asked, her mouth suddenly dry.

“What’s the matter?” Desi asked. “You all look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Which daughter?” Jack echoed.

“Well, okay, Meg, the one who married Ben Arnold, but honestly, we weren’t best friends or anything. I just knew her because we were in some of the same classes,” Desi said. “Anyway, she’s out of the country. Why?”

“Do you know anyone else in the family?” Gil asked.

“I know her sister Sadie a little.” She turned to Burr. “I forgot to tell you she called yesterday, wanted to get together. It was kind of weird, like we were long-lost friends or something. I just told her I was busy and I’d call her back, but I won’t.” She looked back at Peggy. “ _Why_?”

Peggy took a breath. “It was Sadie Shippen who reported Alex and the others. She’s the one who turned in their names.’

“Oh, God,” Desi gasped, her hand over her mouth. “She wanted to talk to me. Why would she want to talk to me?” Her hand moved unconsciously from her mouth to her belly, sheltering her baby.

Gil shook his head, thinking. “Is there any way she could have found out that you were working with us? Have you mentioned it to anybody?”

“No, of course not, only Aaron. Nobody else. And we are very, very careful at work.”

“What about your neighbors? Or, I should say, Jimmy Prevost’s neighbors? Could anyone have seen any of us there, especially Angelica or Alex?”

“I don’t think so,” Desi said doubtfully. “I mean, I suppose it’s possible, but how would that get to Sadie Shippen?”

“No way to know,” Jack said.

“Any new neighbors?” Gil asked. “Any neighbors who were particularly friendly with Jimmy?”

Desi shook her head. “No, not really.” She thought about it for a minute. “There was this one guy, not a neighbor, a contractor. He was doing some work for the people across the street, the Galloways. Jimmy got talking to him the last time he was here, and I think they hung out a few times, but I don’t know if you could say they’re actually friends.”

“Have you seen him since Jimmy left?”

“Yeah, a few times. He’s done work for other people in the neighborhood.” Desi was frowning, concerned.

“Do you ever talk to him?”

“Just hi, you know. Never had a conversation with him.”

“Do you know his name?”

“Jay something … Rogers? No, that’s not it. I think it starts with an R, though. Sorry.” She shook her head.

“It’s okay, probably doesn’t mean anything. It’s just … if somebody was reporting about you to Jimmy while he was away, that wouldn’t be good.”

“Oh, my God!” Desi said. “You mean Jimmy could know about Aaron, know that I’m pregnant?”

“Probably not,” Gil told her. “If Jimmy knew, wouldn’t you have heard from him before now?” He said it lightly, almost as a joke, but Desi reacted seriously.

“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “Jimmy’s not impulsive; he’s manipulative. He would plan something carefully. If he was going to get revenge, he wouldn’t come in with guns blazing. He’d take me out for a fancy dinner and slip a little cyanide in the chocolate mousse.”

There was a long uneasy silence, then Gil leaned forward. “Desi,” he said, “you want to be very careful about where you have your baby.”

Desi looked terrified. Her eyes were wide and her skin had gone gray and clammy. “You don’t mean …?” Burr put his arm around her and held her tightly.

“I don’t know,” Gil said. “I don’t know what he’s capable of. You know him. What do you think?”

Desi put her hand over her mouth to stop her lips from trembling. “Yeah,” she whispered. “He’d be capable of hurting a baby.”

“When we get back to the cabin,” Gil said, “I’m going to talk to Ben Rush. He’s from Philly, so he’ll know about what’s available. I know in some other cities there’s an informal network of midwives who do home births. That’s an option you might want to think about.”

Burr looked worried. “Would that be safe?” he asked.

“Almost certainly,” Gil told him. “Desi’s had a normal pregnancy, right?”

Desi nodded. “Everything’s been fine.”

“Honestly, I’d always prefer that a woman give birth in a hospital,” Gil went on, “just on the off chance of something going wrong at the last minute. That being said, though, home deliveries by a well-trained midwife are very safe. When there are other considerations, like you needing to stay undercover, I would advise opting for a home birth.”

Desi and Burr looked at each other.

“Just think about it,” Gil said. “You’ve got a couple of weeks to make a decision, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I talk to Ben.”

“Okay,” Burr agreed, subdued.

“And I’m thinking, Burr,” Jack added, “that you might need to stop work and stay here too. If this Jay guy has been passing information to Jimmy, he’ll know who you are.”

“It would be hard to live with no income,” Burr pointed out.

Jack laughed. “We’ve been doing it for a few years. And you guys have helped us out, we’ll help you out.”

Burr smiled. “Then maybe I should disappear before March twentieth.”

“I think that would be a good idea. While you’re still working, though, and have all your documentation, get together as much food as you can, things for the baby, anything you can think of. Once you’re undercover, it will be harder.”

“Okay,” Burr agreed. “We have a lot for the baby already.”

“That’s good,” Gil put in, “but be sure you stock up on diapers, wipes, formula, extras of everything.”

“I’m planning to breastfeed her,” Desi said.

“And that’s great,” Gil told her, “but if you were to get sick or something, and weren’t able to nurse temporarily, it might be hard to get formula without all the right ID’s. If you get some in advance, no worries. You can always donate what you don’t use.”

Desi nodded, making mental lists.

“Another thing,” Jack said, looking over at Burr. “It’s good that Desi won’t be here alone. Frankly, I think it’s very unlikely that you’re in any danger here. Even if Jay knows you’ve been seeing each other, there’s no way he knows where this house is. We were not followed here; I’m sure of that. Even so, even if Jimmy Prevost isn’t looking for you, it’s not a good time to be alone anywhere.” He gestured toward the other squad members. “We’re trained, and we never go anywhere alone.”

“Now,” Gil said, “before we go, can you think of anything else about this Jay guy that might be helpful? Alex has ways of getting information. If we knew who he was, we might be able to find out whether he’s been in touch with Jimmy.”

Desi frowned, trying to remember. “The only think I can think of is that he’s kind of a flashy dresser, you know what I mean? Not like most contractors – I mean, if a contractor comes to do an estimate, he’ll probably wear a nice polo shirt and khakis, but Jay would have on a three-piece suit with a silk tie. I thought it made him look ridiculous, kind of pretentious, you know?”

Peggy leaned forward. “Did you by any chance ever see him wearing a fedora?” she asked.

Desi laughed. “As a matter of fact, I did,” she said, “like he thought he was an old-time movie star.”

Peggy looked at Gil. “You saw him,” she said. “Could you give a description?”

“What are you talking about?” Desi asked.

“There was a guy with Sadie Shippen.” Peggy explained.

“I wish John were here,” Gil said. “He could draw him.” He turned to Desi. “Okay, I’d say he was about five ten, dark, thin. Kind of a narrow face. I didn’t really get a close look because he had the fedora pulled down.”

“That sounds like Jay,” Desi says. “I couldn’t say for sure, but the narrow face, it sounds like him.”

“At least we can get Alex going through Jimmy Prevost’s associates, looking for a guy named Jay. Maybe he’ll find something.”

“Oh!” Desi said, sitting up suddenly. “His last name – I just remembered. It’s Reynolds.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Jimmy Prevost, Sadie Shippen, and Jay Reynolds are up to no good. I wonder if anybody else might be involved? Extra points for a correct guess; clue was given in previous chapter.  
> Alex's secret Mission will be front and center soon, but a fair amount of prep work has to be done. He won't be going alone.  
> I knew I was recovering from my virus when I found myself writing a cute little piece of Gil-and-Peggy fluff on my phone in my sickbed just because I missed them. I hope I can work it into the story.  
> Thanks to all of you for reading, for the kudos and comments, and most of all for liking this story.


	37. Redefining Bravery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katie finds a real turtle. John and Alex negotiate for a house. The squad begins to think about leaving the cabin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is quite a lot of French in this chapter, but most of it is about turtles, so you can probably skip if it gets on your nerves. The part that's not about turtles is Gil being very affectionate, as usual, and that might be useful vocabulary, who knows? As always, just ask if you need translation.

It was not quite dark when Jack dropped Gil and Peggy off at the cabin and headed back to Tony’s. They had barely gotten in the door before Katie hurled herself at them, yelling, “A real terkle! We found a real terkle at the lake!” She was so excited she could barely talk.

“That’s great, sweetie,” Peggy said, kneeling down.

“Me an Uncle John went to throw stones inna lake and there was a real terkle,” Katie continued. “An it walks! It walks on its feet just like me!”

Gil looked over Katie’s head at John, “So there’s been a lesson on the habits of turtles?”

John nodded. “Yeah, maybe a couple of lessons. Maybe like the last five hours.”

“No nap?” Peggy asked.

“Sorry,” Eliza said. “We wouldn’t let her sleep with the turtle, so …”

“Where would the turtle be now?” Gil asked apprehensively.

“He’s inna box,” Katie told him. “He goes inside his shell to sleep.”

“Can’t say I blame him,” Herc commented.

Peggy bit her lip. “Rough day?”

“Let me put it this way,” Alex said, “even John got tired of talking about the turtle.”

John shrugged guiltily. “There’s only so much you can say to a three-year-old.”

“You don’t knock on his shell to wake him up,” Katie was instructing Gil. “It’s too noisy for him.”

“Good to know,” Gil nodded.

“I gave him rice an beans,” Katie continued, and that was finally too much for Peggy, who just sat on the floor and laughed.

“Terkles like rice an beans,” Katie told her firmly.

Peggy looked helplessly at John, who said, “They’re omnivores. It won’t hurt him.”

Katie turned to Gil. “Uncle John says the terkle can only stay here one night, an then he hasta go back to his famly inna woods.”

_“Oncle John a toujours raison au sujet de tortues.”_

“ _Mais je ne veux pas qu’il part, ma tortue,”_ Katie said, her bottom lip trembling.

Gil pulled her onto his lap. _“Je sais que tu ne veux pas qu’elle parte, ma petite, mais elle n’est pas ta tortue. Elle a une famille à elle dans le bois, et elle veut sûrement les revoir.”_

Alex choked on a laugh, and Gil glared at him.

 _“Elle reste la nuit seulement?”_ Katie asked, correcting her pronoun, but not changing her tone.

“Just like we stayed at Uncle Tony’s, but then we came back here,” Peggy told her.

“Can she come back to see me sometimes?”

“Of course she can,” Peggy assured her, devoutly hoping that the turtle would hang around the lake for at least a little while.

“You come see her now?” Katie asked, tugging on Peggy’s hand. Peggy and Gil both followed her into the kitchen, where there was a wooden crate in the corner. In the crate was an ordinary box turtle, a lot of grass and leaves, and the remains of a spoonful of rice and beans. The turtle’s shell was tightly closed. Katie put her finger over her lips. “Sh!” she whispered. “He’s asleep.”

“Okay, we’ll let him sleep now,” Peggy said, “and it’s time for you to sleep too. You can see the turtle in the morning.”

“Can I kiss him good-night?” Katie asked.

“Maybe just blow him a kiss, so you don’t wake him up,” Peggy told her.

Katie blew the turtle five kisses before she agreed to go to bed, and it took Peggy longer than usual to get her tucked in. When she was finally settled, Peggy went back into the main room and looked around at everyone. “I can’t even,” she said.

“You have no idea,” Angelica told her. “They found that damn creature right after lunch, and it has been the only topic of conversation since then.”

Peggy started laughing again. “I’m sorry, but it really is funny.”

“Box turtles don’t really make good pets,” John said a little anxiously.

“We have no intention of keeping the turtle for a pet,” Gil assured him.

“Because the turtle misses her family, who live in the woods,” Alex pointed out.

“I was trying to give her an explanation that she would understand,” Gil said.

“Yeah, and somebody tell me why the turtle kept changing sex,” Herc wanted to know. “He-she-he-she. What’s up with that?”

“Turtle is feminine in French, so we say she,” Gil explained.

“What if it’s a boy turtle?” Herc asked.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It would to me.”

“It’s grammar, not sex,” Gil tried, and then started laughing. “How are we even having this conversation?”

“Be sure to make enough oatmeal for the turtle to have breakfast with us,” Eliza requested, and they were all laughing.

“I got no work done today,” Alex told Gil. “None. I wanted John to call the Jenkins guy, but Katie had him tied to her and the turtle all day.”

“Come on, Alex, I can’t be mean to Katie,” John defended himself.

“I know,” Alex told him, smiling. He turned to Gil and Peggy. “You should have seen her, holding the turtle up to her eye and squinting, trying to see inside the shell. She said, ‘It’s dark in there.’”

“Oh, God, I feel sorry for the poor turtle,” Peggy said. “I promise, we’ll take her to the lake tomorrow to send the turtle back to its family in the woods.”

“She’s not going to like that,” Angelica said.

“It’s okay,” Peggy said. “She’ll understand because she loves her family too.” She looked around the room. “You guys are amazing.”

“You know we love Katie,” John said.

Peggy nodded. “She’s a lucky little girl to have all of you.”

“Okay, now that both Katie and the turtle are asleep,” Alex said, “tell me how things went with Burr and Desi.”

Gil and Peggy caught him up on everything, including their decision to drop their cover names and the probable identification of the guy with Sadie Shippen as Jay Reynolds.

“John, do you think you could draw that guy?” Gil asked. “That way Desi can say for sure if he’s who she thinks he is.”

“Sure,” John nodded. “You want me to draw the girl who was with them too? The one in the red dress?”

“Yeah, do that,” Alex said. “In the meantime, I’ll see what I can find out on Jay Reynolds. There have to be some records on him somewhere.”

“And I need to talk to Ben about maybe finding a midwife for Desi,” Gil said. “If she breaks cover to go have her baby at a hospital, it could be dangerous.”

Eliza looked concerned. “Somebody should be there with her all the time,” she said.

“Burr is only going to work a couple more weeks,” Gil told her. “He’ll disappear before Jimmy Prevost is back in town.”

“Does Burr have a gun?” Herc asked.

Alex and Gil looked at each other. “I don’t know,” Alex said. “I doubt it. We’ll take care of that soon.”

“And tomorrow, I’m going to call Will Jenkins, right?” John asked. “See if he knows about a house we can use for a staging area now that Burr and Desi are in Grammy Nell’s?”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, “but I’ve been thinking. We’re all going to have to be in the city for Dolphin, even Peggy and Katie, because we can’t leave them here alone. It might make more sense to keep Grammy Nell’s as the staging area, and get a bigger house as the safe house. Peggy and Katie could just about fit into Grammy Nell’s with Desi and Burr and their baby, but it would be better, I think, if the safe house had room for medical treatment. We could put Ben and Eliza there, maybe Gil.”

Gil shook his head. “I’m going out with you for Dolphin,” he said, and Peggy’s heart contracted for a moment. “I’ll do field treatment like I did for John, but I’m not staying in the house.”

“Okay,” Alex agreed calmly, “your call on that. If we get a place with three or four bedrooms, though, we’ve got space for Burr and Desi, Peggy and Katie, a couple of medical beds, and room for the rest of us to get some sleep when we can.”

“That makes sense,” Angelica said. “Sleeping on the floor at Grammy Nell’s was not really restful.”

“Do you think Desi and Burr will stay in the safe house during Dolphin?” Eliza asked.

Alex frowned. “What do you mean?”

It was Peggy who answered, looking across the room and nodding at Eliza. “They’ll be fighting like everybody else. Both of them probably, but Desi for sure.”

“You’re right,” Angelica agreed. “Desi wants to fight for her baby’s future.”

Alex thought about it for a few minutes. “We’ll need everybody we can get. If they want to fight, we’ll arm them and train them.”

Peggy shivered. “And the baby?”

“Their decision,” Alex responded, “but they’ll know that no matter what happens, their baby will always be taken care of.”

Peggy turned her face to Gil’s shoulder, wondering if they thought she was a coward for accepting her non-combatant status. Gil ran his hand through her curls. “Nobody’s talking about you,” he said.

“Peggy, look at me,” Alex demanded. “You and Ben don’t fight. Squad decision, approved by Headquarters.”

“I could fight,” Peggy told him.

“Fuck, yeah, you could fight,” John declared. “That’s not the point. Every squad has somebody who is not out in the field. Most of them are medical, but there are other reasons. It was something that was set up at the beginning, that a squad could designate non-combatant roles. You have a job.” John’s voice became gentler. “You think any of us could go out and fight if we were worried about Katie?” he asked.

Peggy smiled. “Thank you all for taking such good care of her,” she said.

A couple of hours later, when they were alone, Peggy said to Gil, “You know what I said earlier about Katie being a lucky little girl because her family loves her so much?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Sometimes I worry about Katie’s life – no playmates her own age, no ordinary experiences like kids should have, and then something like today happens, when everybody stops what they’re doing, even important work, to take care of Katie, and I realize how lucky she is. How lucky we all are because we all love each other.”

He kissed the top of her head where it was tucked under his chin. _“Je suis d’accord, chérie.”_

“It will be different when it’s over,” she continued thoughtfully. “We’ll be living in different places, doing different jobs, having families. It won’t ever be like this again.”

He shifted his arm to lean back a little and look at her. “You’re very wise, my little sheep,” he said softly. “We will all always love each other, you and I and your sisters and Alex and John and Herc, but you’re right that in a year or two, it won’t be like this. Once King has been brought down and we’ve held free elections, we won’t all live together in one place. Our lives will change.”

“For the better.”

“Yes, of course, but we will also miss the life we’ve been living. We’ll look back at this someday and say, ‘Remember how happy we all were together?’ forgetting the times we irritated each other …”

“And ate rice and beans every night …”

“And never had enough blankets. _Ma chérie,_ nothing ever stays the same. Who said that change is the only constant?”

“I don’t know, and it’s not that I don’t want change, but …”

“But this has been good.”

“Yes.” She reached up and brushed his curls off his forehead. “When I think of where we started, when there was barely a Movement at all, and we were hungry all the time, and so scared, and now … look at where we are. The fact that we’re alive is a miracle.”

He turned her face with his finger so he could kiss her. “If I believed in miracles … but I will say instead that we are lucky to be alive right now. What if I had never found you? What if …” his voice caught a bit. “I can’t imagine a life without you. You make me feel … _tu es ma joie, chérie, ma bonheur. Tout ce qui est bon dans ma vie vient de toi.”_ He kissed her again, and she melted into him, her fingers in his curls. He turned on his side and his hand slid down her back, and she felt him smile against her lips.

“Still the tee shirt, _chérie?_ When will I persuade you that clothes in bed are unnecessary?”

“You could start now,” she told him, and he laughed out loud, and pulled the offending shirt over her head.

“My beautiful wife,” he said, his eyes going over her slowly to take everything in. “No matter how many times I have seen you, _chaque fois, ta beauté m’étonne de nouveau.”_ He ran a finger from her forehead to her chin, slowly down her throat to her breast, and then he began in earnest to explore, first with his fingers, and then with his mouth, so that his tongue could circle each nipple for a long time before he sucked it gently, and then not so gently, because by now he knew exactly what she liked. She gasped and pulled her own underpants off, and that made him smile because nothing, nothing on the whole earth, was better than knowing that Peggy wanted him. He kissed between her breasts and then in a line down to her navel, and skimmed his tongue over it, and then very, very slowly he continued down as she spread her legs for him.

His hand first, thumb circling, fingers sliding in to find that she was already wet and slippery, and then, gently, his tongue flicking and teasing and tasting as she writhed and lifted her hips and whispered, “Please, oh, please.”

She pulled him up, just on the edge of orgasm, but wanting him inside her, and knowing that he knew that. It made her smile even at that instant, how well he knew her, and then he kissed her and she tasted herself as he slid inside, and God, he was big and hard, and his mouth still on hers, he went deeper and deeper as she pushed herself onto him until once again, he gave her everything she wanted.

* * * * *

The next morning, Katie dragged the turtle’s box next to the table so that he could join them for breakfast.

“Terkles like oapmeal, right, Uncle John?” she asked.

“Sure, Katie,” John agreed sleepily, “turtles are omnivores. That means they eat anything.”

Katie nodded and offered the turtle a spoonful of oatmeal. He did not seem interested.

“Maybe this terkle doesn’t like oapmeal,” Katie suggested.

“Maybe he’s not hungry right now,” Peggy said.

“Maybe she wants a croissant,” Gil offered helpfully.

“What’s a croissant?” Katie asked.

“A roll,” Herc said.

“Well …” Gil began, but Alex cut him off.

“Don’t get started,” he said. “We have a lot of work to do today.”

“Come on, terkle, eat your oapmeal,” Katie said coaxingly. The turtle pulled all its appendages into its shell and stayed there.

“Maybe the turtle is a little bit sad,” Peggy said.

“Because she wants to go see her family?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Katie got down off her chair and leaned over the turtle’s box. “Do you wanna go see your family?” she asked and waited patiently. The turtle did nothing.

Katie looked up at Peggy. “I really, really like this terkle,” she said sadly.

“I know you do, sweetie, but she has to go home. Let’s go get dressed and we’ll take her back to the lake.”

“Me an you an Tonton?”

“Yes, we’ll all go.”

“An then can we throw rocks inna lake?”

Peggy nodded. “For a while.”

Katie went to get dressed, and Gil looked at Peggy. “I’m going too?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“Maybe Alex needs me here?”

“No, I don’t,” Alex assured him.

Gil sighed. “I’m not getting out of it, am I?”

“Nope. We are both going to accompany her to say good-bye to the turtle and deal with whatever the aftermath is.”

An hour later, they were at the lake, Gil and Peggy sitting on the flat rock, and Katie talking to the turtle, which she was holding up near her face, even though it was closed tight.

“Do you wanna stay with me, terkle?” Katie hopefully.

There was no response from the turtle.

“Where did you find her yesterday?” Gil asked.

Katie pointed to a group of birch trees off to the right.

“Then put her back there, so she can go home,” Gil told her gently.

“Now?” Katie asked, her eyes filling.

“Mm-hmm.”

“But I really, really like her.”

Gil got down on one knee. “ _Je sais, ma petite, mais elle n’est pas à toi. Elle doit rentrer chez elle.”_

_“Tu viens avec moi?”_

_“Bien sûr,”_ he agreed, taking her hand. Together, they walked over to the birches, the turtle tucked under Katie’s arm. Katie gave the turtle one last hug and put it down, then threw herself onto Gil’s shoulder, sobbing. He scooped her up, and walked back to where Peggy still sat on the flat rock, and held out his hand to her. She leaned into him for a hug, and he stood there with his arms around both his girls, Katie weeping her little heart out, and his own throat tight, wondering how he could ever protect these two that he loved so much from future heartbreak that would surely be worse than this. _Keep them safe_ drifted through his mind again, not a prayer, because he didn’t believe in prayer, but still somehow a plea to the universe.

After a while, they walked slowly back to the cabin, and Katie went straight to John to tell him all about it. He got down on the floor and listened to her as if she were the world’s leading authority on box turtles, telling her how great it was that she had let the turtle go back to the woods, and repeating that turtles don’t like to live in houses. John’s reassurance made her feel better, and her tears stopped. In a little while, she went off to play, and then at lunch, she told Peggy, “Uncle John says I’m brave.”

“Well, you are,” Peggy agreed.

“Because even though I was sad, I let my terkle go home. He says that’s what you do when you’re brave.”

Peggy nodded, not trusting her voice, smiling at John across the table.

“He says I’m brave like you.”

Gil dropped a kiss on Katie’s curls. “You know who else is brave?” he asked.

“Who?”

“Uncle John. He got hurt, but he still helped everybody.”

“Yeah,” Katie agreed, nodding. “That’s what you do when you’re brave.”

Alex cleared his throat. “Katie, you are a pretty amazing kid.”

Katie just smiled at him and ate some more rice.

* * * * *

John had gotten a call through to Will Jenkins in the morning and was waiting for a call back on the secure phone that Alex was using. Jenkins had told him that there could be a number of houses available since King’s regulations made selling property much more complicated. Neighborhoods were restricted by party, plus Deplos were more heavily taxed than Hopes or Haves. They wanted a house in a Deplo neighborhood, since there would be less policing and almost certainly less attention paid to what might look like an odd assortment of people living in a house. Jenkins was going to ask around, but John said it seemed like he had an idea about something.

When Alex’s phone rang at two o’clock, they all jumped, and Alex answered it. It was, as expected, Will Jenkins, so Alex handed the phone off to John. The conversation seemed mostly one-sided, with John saying things like, “Okay” or “Uh-huh,” and scratching notes on a scrap of paper. After about half an hour and a few questions, John said, “I’ll get back to you, probably tonight or tomorrow morning. Thanks a lot. You’ve been a huge help. Rise up.”

Alex held out his hand for the phone and asked, “Well?”

“Okay, here’s what we’ve got,” John told him. “Will Jenkins’s wife’s cousin has a house in a Deplo neighborhood that nobody’s living in. It was his parents’ place, but his dad died a long time ago, and his mom a few months ago. They can’t sell it, because no Deplo has enough money to buy anything anymore, and no Hope or Have can live in a Deplo neighborhood. Man, how come King can’t see how totally he has fucked everything up? Anyway, the house is just sitting there, and the cousin has to pay taxes on it, and so far he’s managed to keep the heat on enough so that the pipes haven’t frozen, but it’s costing him more than he can afford. We can have it if we pay the taxes, and give him clear title to it within three months of the end of the insurrection.”

Alex laughed. “What is this guy, a lawyer?”

“No, but he’s smart. Deplos are trying to hold onto their houses, if they have them, so they have a place to live when the new government comes in, but so many of them have lost them for non-payment of taxes. The cousin – his name is Andy, by the way – wants to keep the house for his family. He’s got a kid the same age as Billy Jenkins, and another one a little younger, so he’s looking ahead.”

“Okay,” Alex nodded. “We can easily pay the taxes just like we pay them on Grammy Nell’s.”

“By hacking the tax office, right?” Gil asked.

“Well, of course,” Alex responded. “You don’t think we pay them actual money, do you? But it’s worked fine, same with these two cabins, everything looks like it’s paid, except no money changes hands. I’m sure at some point somebody will figure it out, but we don’t have to do this forever, just for a few months more.” He turned back to John. “So tell me about the house.”

“It’s good, really,” John said. “It’s a row house, because that’s what there is in Philly, but it’s big. He said it was two smaller row houses originally, but the family bought both and knocked down the dividing wall and made it into one bigger one a long time ago, when he was a kid. So the main level has the usual living room, dining room and kitchen, with a big family room and a full bath. I was thinking the family room with the bath would be good for the medical area.”

“Yeah, perfect,” Gil agreed.

“Then upstairs, there are four decent size bedrooms and two full baths. They set it up with one bedroom having its own bath for the master bedroom, and then the other three share, so maybe Burr and Desi and the baby get the master, um, suite.” He gave Gil a sideways look and snickered. “The other three bedrooms could just be for whoever else needs to sleep there.”

Gil narrowed his eyes at John. “You heard that from Jack, right?”

John nodded and snickered again. “And there’s more – the house has a partially finished basement with a washer and dryer, and there’s a half bath in the basement too.”

“We’ve been in this damned cabin so long that that house sounds like a luxury hotel,” Angelica declared.

“A washer and dryer,” Peggy sighed.

“That’s three and a half baths, so probably at least one bathtub,” Eliza added.

“Back down, everybody,” Alex warned. “Don’t get excited until we know what we’re doing about it. John, let me see the details.” The two of them sat on the couch and reviewed everything.

“It looks good,” Alex said after a while. “I like the location, too.”

“It’s only about four blocks from Grammy Nell’s,” John pointed out, “so communication would be manageable, even without phones.”

Alex nodded. “I think it’s a go, but I have to run it by Tony. Come on, let’s go see him.”

“A bathtub!” Eliza said, as soon as Alex and John were out the door. “I swear I will steal bubble bath the first chance I get.”

“Sharesies!” Peggy and Angelica both called out at once, and they all laughed.

“How big did John say the basement was?” Herc asked.

“I don’t think he did, but it’s got to be about the same area as the other floors,” Angelica said.

“Bigger than my mom’s apartment,” Herc mused.

“Let’s be realistic, though,” Gil cautioned. “It’s bigger than this cabin, for sure, but it’s a lot harder to stay undercover in a city neighborhood with people all around than up here in the woods. We won’t be able to go out and take a walk when we feel like it.”

“True,” Angelica agreed, “but I think we’ve been here long enough. Two and a half years in this cabin.”

“It’s been mostly good, though,” Peggy said, and Angelica smiled at her.

“Yeah,” she said, “mostly. There won’t be any terkles in Philly, though.”

“Don’t make me cry,” Peggy pleaded.

“It will be different,” Gil said. “We just don’t know in what ways.”

Alex and John came back about an hour later.

“We’re going to take the house,” Alex announced. “We had another talk with Will Jenkins, and Tony is going to handle it from here. I gave Molly the info to hack in for the taxes and utilities and she’s already started on that.”

Gil frowned. It was distinctly unlike Alex to hand off hacking to someone else, even someone as competent as Molly. “What’s up?” he asked. “Why aren’t you handling it?”

“I won’t be here,” Alex said, and there was a sudden silence. “Day after tomorrow, Eliza, John, and I are going away for a few days.”

Eliza and John were as surprised by this as everyone else.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” John asked.

“We have a Mission,” Alex said.

“Okay, but when were you going to tell us?” Eliza wanted to know.

“When I had to, which is now. I still can’t tell you what or where, though.” He looked from John to Eliza and back again. “It’s important, and it has to be us.”

“Need to know?” Eliza asked lightly. “Is Tony in?”

Alex shook his head. “No, he knows we’re going, but that’s all. I’m sorry, but you guys all know how it works.”

“But why the three of us?” John asked.

“I can’t tell you,” Alex said gently.

“If Tony’s not in, who is?”

“Right now, just me, TJ, the General, and one other person,” Alex told him.

“How long will we be gone?” Eliza wanted to know.

“I’m guessing – really guessing here – about five days.”

“Fuck, Alex, what the hell?” John stared at him. “Where?”

Alex shook his head again. They all knew he couldn’t give them any more information, but five days was a long Mission. There was a long silence, and then a kind of settling. They knew what was expected of them.

“Okay, anything the rest of us need to do?” Angelica asked.

“Yeah,” Alex nodded. “Tonight you’re going to cut my hair, and tomorrow Liz is going to come over and give me highlights.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So where are Alex, John, and Eliza going, and why? How in the world will the rest of the squad function without them? Is Molly going to dig up any information about the sleazy Jay Reynolds?  
> So much thanks to all of you who are reading and following this story. Thanks especially for the kudos and comments. I love hearing from you, and I love when you let me know you've picked up some of the bread crumbs. XOXOXO


	38. Seize the Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and John get their hair styled. Gil and Tony make decisions based on little information. Alex keeps Eliza and John in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I was going to do this Mission in one chapter, but it's looking more like three, at least. Here's the beginning, anyway.

“I’m not doing blond,” Liz said, laying out an array of supplies that looked as complicated as Gil’s surgical gear. “I got a nice caramel color.”

Alex already looked strange to everyone: clean-shaven, with hair that came only to the nape of his neck instead of his shoulders, and fell over his forehead in the front. Angelica had done a good job with the cut.

Eliza stared at him. “You look about fourteen,” she said.

Liz ran her hand through his hair, trying to see where it would fall naturally. “So we’re going to lighten it here and here,” she said, showing him, “where the sun would hit it if you were outside by the pool.”

“In March,” John pointed out.

“But the thing is, maybe I’ve been in Florida all winter,” Alex suggested.

Tony had managed to print out the pictures of Alex and John that had been plastered all over the area. John picked up the one of Alex and studied it. “Your hair was short in this,” he said.

“Yeah, but it was a lot shorter then. That was, what, my sophomore year? It was so short that it looked really straight.”

John nodded. Angelica had left Alex’s hair long enough that his natural wave was apparent. John looked back and forth between the picture and Alex, sitting on a kitchen chair with a towel around his shoulders. “You know, you’re kind of hot,” he said.

 _“Gracias, mi amor,”_ Alex smiled.

“I think I should lighten your eyebrows just a little,” Liz said thoughtfully.

“Shit,” Alex responded. He sighed. “Go ahead then.”

Liz did his eyebrows first with a tiny brush, and then began applying the hair dye for the highlights, while Alex did his best to sit still. She wiped the bleach out of his eyebrows after only a few minutes, and they didn’t look very different, just a shade lighter, as she had suggested. Angelica picked up the pictures of Alex and John and studied them, then held up the picture of John so they could all see it. His freckled face, surrounded by its halo of curls, looked out of it. “What are we going to do about this?”

“What do you mean?” John asked warily.

“You’re totally recognizable,” Angelica told him. “Alex, what were you planning?”

Alex shifted in his chair and Liz shoved his head back in place. “Braids, sunglasses, a hat, and no English.”

Angelica nodded. “Not bad. Have you got an ID with a Spanish name?”

“I’ve got a bunch of blanks. I can be Juan López.”

Liz looked at him. “I’m going to take your hair a couple of shades darker,” she told him.

“Ah, fuck, not my hair,” John lamented.

“You are too damn vain about your hair,” Alex told him.

“Because it’s pretty,” John pointed out. “Everybody knows my hair is pretty, right?” He looked around the room for support and got it.

“Absolutely, you have the prettiest hair of anybody here,” Eliza assured him.

“We all love your curls, John,” Peggy said.

“Nice hair, dude,” Herc threw in.

John’s eyes narrowed. “You guys being sarcastic?”

“Possibly,” Herc admitted and John just shook his head in disgust.

“Come on, gorgeous, you’re next,” Liz said, grabbing another towel.

John slumped sulkily in the kitchen chair and Liz draped the towel around his neck.

“How dark are you going to make it?” he asked. “As dark as Alex’s?”

“Not quite. More like Peggy’s.”

John looked at Peggy’s hair and shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

“Gee, thanks,” Peggy told him.

“No, it’s great on you,” John assured her, “I just like my hair the way it is.”

By the time Liz got the color on John, it was time to wash Alex’s hair and take a look at his new highlights.

“You look … different,” Eliza said.

“That’s the point,” Alex reminded her.

“I know, but I mean, you look more, um, friendly? It’s kind of interesting.”

“You look less dangerous,” Angelica declared flatly, and they were all silent, thinking about that. Alex had never exactly cultivated a particular style, but with his shadowed eyes, usual stubble, and long dark hair hanging to his shoulders, he had always had the kind of rough look that at the very least discouraged others from challenging him. With the new polished and sophisticated style, he looked more trustworthy.

“Damn,” Gil commented, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t think a hairstyle would make that much difference, but I’d probably let you date my sister.”

“You don’t have a sister,” Alex reminded him.

“Hypothetically,” Gil said.

Liz ignored them and washed the dark brown dye out of John’s hair. She toweled it, and Angelica began the tedious task of braiding it straight back. With the darker color, the braids concealing his curls, and the still-healing scar across his forehead, John looked quite different from the smiling young man in the picture.

Liz and Angelica admired their handiwork.

“It’s enough, I think,” Angelica said. “Not a huge difference for either of them, but enough that nobody is going to identify them on sight.”

“That’s what we were going for,” Alex told her. “Eliza and I will have new ID’s too. I’m Javier Martinez, born in Puerto Rico, but lived here since I was a kid, Eliza’s my wife Claire, born in Philadelphia, doesn’t speak Spanish. My cousin Juan López is visiting. He doesn’t speak English.”

“That ought to be fun,” Eliza said dryly.

“Just when there are other people around,” Alex assured her. “Also, everybody, we’re taking the Acura, and I’ll have a phone that you can reach me on, but dire emergency only. Tony and Gil will have the number. Gil, you’re in charge here till I get back. Do what I’d do.”

“I couldn’t possibly consume that much caffeine,” Gil responded with a smile, but his eyes were serious.

Everybody was up early in the morning. Tony had brought the Acura up the night before, and it only took a few minutes to throw the duffle bags in the trunk. They always wished each other luck on Missions, but this one was different. Five days meant they were going far, and no one had any idea where or why. The fact that John and Eliza were going yet hadn’t been briefed on their own Mission was unheard of. Eliza hugged her sisters, and John picked Katie up so he could kiss her, and then Gil held out his hand to Alex. “ _Bon courage,_ ” he said.

Alex took his hand and pulled him in for a hug. “ _À très bientôt, mon frère._ ”

They left before the sun reached the tops of the trees. Angelica and Herc went back inside, but Gil and Peggy sat on the step and let Katie explore the edge of the woods a little.

“I don’t like it,” Gil said. “There’s just something not right about this Mission.”

“What do you mean?” Peggy asked.

“Why haven’t Eliza and John been briefed? Have you ever heard of that, anybody setting off on a Mission with no idea of what they’re going to do? It’s the complete opposite of standard procedure, where we try to make sure everyone is prepared for whatever might happen.”

Peggy knew that was right. “So this must be a different kind of Mission entirely. Do you have any theory about what it might be?”

Gil shook his head. “None at all. And there’s another thing. We’re usually careful to break up couples on Mission teams so that everybody stays focused on the Mission. Our last time in the city, Tony split up Jack and Molly; Alex was with Angelica, and John was with Herc and me. Now Alex, Eliza, and John are a Mission team? It’s ridiculous to think there’d be no emotional interference in a crisis.”

“They’re all very protective of each other,” Peggy agreed, her voice troubled.

“Of course, and that’s fine, but it’s not the best situation for a team.” He frowned, looking off toward the trees, trying to make sense of it. “We don’t know who picked the team, though.”

“It would have to be Alex or the General, wouldn’t it? I mean, Alex said TJ knew, but TJ’s not Alex’s superior. Or I guess it could be the other person whose name we don’t know.” Peggy leaned her head on her husband’s shoulder. “We may never know, _chéri_. There’s no point in making ourselves crazy over it.”

He took both her hands in his. “ _J’en ai marre de tout ça!_ I’ve had enough! I want – I want no more secrecy and hiding and looking over my shoulder. I want it done.”

* * * * *

Since only Alex knew where they were going, he was the only one who could drive. As always, he stuck to the back roads, driving exactly the speed limit, taking no chances. Their ID’s and documents looked good, but why risk a traffic stop?

“When you going to tell us where we’re going?” John asked from the back seat.

“I don’t know,” Alex told him.

“Seriously, Alex, this is nuts,” Eliza said. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

Alex kept driving, his eyes on the road, trying to figure out how little he could say.

“I’ll get word,” he said. “I’ll get a call.”

“This secret shit sucks,” John declared.

“I know,” Alex agreed. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t, though. Telling them would have been so much worse.

* * * * *

Tony and Ben sat at the table with Gil, Peggy, Herc and Angelica.

“Alex says that we have to move Burr and Desi to the other house immediately,” Tony said.

“What the hell?” Angelica asked. “They just got in there.”

“I know,” Tony agreed, “but apparently something changed. Alex couldn’t tell me any more than that, because it’s …”

“Yeah, need to know,” Herc finished for him.

“All right, it’s probably better that they move now, rather than after they’ve settled in,” Gil said. “Herc and I can go help them.” He turned to Herc with a resigned look. “They’ve got a shitload of stuff.”

“They’ll be better off in the other house, though,” Peggy said. “You want me to come too?”

“No, you stay here with Angelica,” Gil told her. “Hopefully, we’ll get it done in one day like we did the first time.”

“I’m coming with you,” Ben said. “I have a contact, and I’ll arrange to meet with her – a midwife. We can make sure Desi’s in good hands.”

“Okay,” Gil nodded, “and either before or after meeting with the midwife, you can help haul Desi’s furniture around.”

“It will give you a chance to look over the new house,” Tony pointed out. “See if it needs anything. Andy said some of the furniture is still there, see what we can use.”

Gil nodded again, absently, his mind not on furniture.

“We’re going to need sheets and towels and blankets more than furniture,” Angelica advised.

“She’s right,” Tony said. “I’ve got money on a couple of cards. Why don’t you stop at a Walmart and get what you can.”

“I can do that,” Ben offered. “You know, while Gil and Herc are hauling all the furniture.”

“Thanks,” Herc said, “but I think my superior expertise on the subject of fabrics makes me the obvious choice to shop for linens. You medical guys move the furniture and talk to the ladies about babies.”

Gil laughed. “You’ve got us there, Herc. Okay, we’ll all move the furniture, and then, while Ben and I meet with the midwife and Desi and Burr, you can go shopping. Your picture’s out, though, so what are you going to do about that?”

“Watch cap and a big scarf and Alex’s fake glasses.” Alex had a couple of pairs of glasses with clear glass in them that they used sometimes to change appearances.

“One store, in and out,” Gil agreed, hoping this was the best decision. Maybe he should take Jack or Joe, but really, he’d rather have Herc with him. He trusted Herc’s judgment, especially on practical matters like the house.

“So, when?” Ben asked.

“Tomorrow.”

* * * * *

Alex pulled into a gas station and convenience store in northern Virginia, just south of the Maryland state line. They all got out to stretch and use the rest rooms, and then John filled the tank while Alex bought them sandwiches and juice.

“Come on, man, not even a Snickers?” John complained, back in the car and on the road. He opened his plastic-wrapped chicken sandwich on whole-wheat and looked at it without enthusiasm.

“The last thing we need is to overload on sugar,” Alex said self-righteously.

The idea of Alex lecturing anybody on sugar consumption was too ridiculous.

“Seriously?” Eliza asked. “No sugar for this whole Mission? How about caffeine?”

“I didn’t say NO sugar, and I didn’t mention caffeine,” Alex smiled. He reached into his pocket and tossed a Snickers to John and a Milky Way to Eliza. “Eat your sandwiches first, kids.”

John and Eliza both cheered, and Eliza leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “This doesn’t feel like a Mission,” she said. “It seems almost like a vacation. What are we doing in Virginia?”

“We’re meeting up with TJ for something, right?” John asked.

“Can’t tell you,” Alex answered briefly.

“Still? Like, when are you going to tell us, right before somebody starts shooting?”

“I hope not.”

John poked him in the shoulder from the back seat. “You are a pain in the ass.”

“So I’ve heard,” Alex agreed calmly. He kept the car headed southwest as the afternoon went on, into the Blue Ridge, but avoiding the highways and the larger towns. Spring was just starting in the mountains. Dogwood and mountain laurel made patches of white and pale pink visible through the trees, and even though Alex kept them mostly in the valleys where there were fewer tourists, they could see the crests of the mountains off to the west, shading from deep blue-green to faintest blue-gray in the farthest distance.

“Alex, pull over,” Eliza said as they rounded a curve and caught a glimpse of patchwork farmland beside a creek, the blue mountains behind it fading off into infinity, the sun low in the western sky making all the shadows longer and deeper blue.

Alex squeezed the car onto the narrow shoulder, and they all got out for a few minutes.

“Look at that,” John said. “God, I’d love to paint that.”

“You will,” Alex told him, one arm around John’s shoulder, the other around Eliza’s waist.

“That’s what we’re fighting for,” Eliza said softly. “For everything that makes up this country. We get caught up in the logistics so much that we forget sometimes how beautiful it is and how lucky we are to be alive in it. I don’t know why we’re here, Alex, but I’m glad. I’m glad we’re the ones who get to be on this Mission.”

Alex kissed her hair, but didn’t trust himself to speak.

“We’ll come back here again, right?” John said. “I could spend the rest of my life just trying to paint all the shades of blue in those mountains.”

Alex swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he said, “we’ll come back. We have to go now, though.”

Through the gathering dusk, he continued southwest through the blue mountains, praying they wouldn’t hate him too much when it was over.

* * * * *

“Where’s Uncle John an Uncle Alex an Aunt Eliza?” Katie asked, poking at her rice and beans with a spoon.

“They went to chase the bad guys away,” Peggy told her. Katie knew that there were bad guys and that her grown-ups sometimes had to go deal with them.

“Like before?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“When a bad guy hurt Uncle John’s head?”

“Mm-hmm, but Uncle John’s okay now.”

“Yeah,” Katie agreed, “acuz Tonton fixed his head an Tonton is the best doctor.”

Gil laughed. “ _Merci, ma petite, mais il y beaucoup de bons médecins, et je suis pas le meilleur de tous.”_

“ _Si,”_ Katie smiled up at him, _“c’est toi le meilleur de tous._ ”

“ _Qui le dit?”_

_“Oncle John.”_

“Well, John’s opinion should count,” Peggy agreed. “You’ve done more medical work on him than on anyone else.”

“That’s true,” Gil said, “but I’ll be quite happy if I never do any more medical work on anybody I care about.”

* * * * *

They crossed the state line into North Carolina just after the sun set behind the mountains, and Alex turned off onto a gravel road by a worn sign that said Cabins and Campground. There were no lights on the gravel road and it was full of ruts and potholes, but Alex seemed to know where he was going. After about a mile, they came to a double-wide mobile home with a small wooden deck and the front light on. Alex went in alone and came back dangling a key in front of them.

“We’re in cabin number six,” he said.

“Where the hell are we?” asked John, who had been dozing for the last thirty miles or so.

“We’re at a campground run by someone sympathetic to the Movement,” Alex told them. “Her grandparents used to run this place as tourist cabins back before there were chain motels everywhere. Now it’s a cheap campground. Some people who can’t afford to live anywhere else live here year round because she charges them almost nothing. It’s miles from anywhere now, but she kept the tourist cabins in good repair, and she’s okay with us staying here.”

“How long are we going to be here?” Eliza asked.

“I don’t know,” Alex said. “I’ll get a call”

Eliza raised her eyebrow at him, but it was too dark for him to see her, and anyway, she knew it wouldn’t have mattered. Alex loved to talk, but if a secret had to be kept, no one was more reliable than he was.

The dirt road that led to cabin number six was even worse than the one they had come in on, and they crept along in the darkness at about five miles an hour. Eliza found the flashlight in the glove box and shone it out the window as they passed large boxy shapes that were a little darker than their surroundings. The third box on the right had a 6 on the door. Alex pulled onto the gravel patch in front of it and stumbled up the two steps. The key worked easily, though, and they went in, feeling around for a light switch.

“Does it even have electricity?” John asked.

“Sure,” Alex told him confidently. “She said there was food in the fridge.”

Eliza finally found a wall switch and flipped it, turning on a very dim overhead light.

“Huh,” John said, squinting at it, “I didn’t even know they made twenty-watt bulbs any more.”

The faint light illuminated a large room that was better-equipped than they had expected. Along the back wall was a kitchenette, with a small fridge, a sink, and a microwave. On the left was a bed and a door that led to a modest bathroom. On the right was a couch in front of a stone fireplace. There was firewood in a rack next to the fireplace. The whole place was spotlessly clean.

“Wow,” Eliza said. “This is great.” She inspected the bathroom and then came back and sat on the bed.

“Can we have a fire in the fireplace?” John asked, grinning like a little kid.

“I think we might have to because she said there’s no other heat. You know how to build a fire in a fireplace?”

“Just throw some wood in and light it, right?”

“No, it’s not quite that simple,” Eliza told him. “I can do it. We always had the fireplace going in Albany. It gets cold upstate.”

“Matches are in one of the kitchen drawers,” Alex said. “Let’s see what this food is that she left for us.”

There was a pasta casserole and a can of green beans, and much to everyone’s delight, six fresh eggs in a blue bowl, a small container of butter, and a covered pitcher of milk.

“She has chickens and a goat,” Alex said with a grin. “It’s not legal, of course, but out here in the middle of nowhere, nobody has ever reported them. The chicken coop and the pen for the goat are in the woods. They provide eggs and milk for her family, and sometimes for other people like us.”

There were teabags but no sugar in the cupboard. Even Alex didn’t complain about that.

Eliza started the fire in the fireplace while John heated up the casserole and Alex walked around doing his best to supervise them. There was no table, so they sat on the couch and ate from plates in their laps as the warmth from the fireplace started to take the chill of the evening off.

“This is so nice,” Eliza said, swallowing the last of her pasta and stretching her feet out toward the fire. “How is this a Mission? I feel so guilty that we’re having what amounts to a vacation.”

“It’s going to change, though, isn’t it?” John asked. “We didn’t come all the way down here for something minor.”

“You’re right,” Alex nodded, “but you know what, we can’t talk about the serious shit for now, so let’s just relax.”

They cleaned up the dishes and Eliza took a shower first so that her hair would dry. When she came back into the main room, Alex and John were making out on the couch.

“Having fun without me?” she asked.

“Not as much as we’d have with you,” Alex responded, making room.

“There’s a perfectly good bed over there,” John pointed out.

“God,” Eliza sighed, feeling her body start to respond to her thoughts. “How long has it been since it was just the three of us?”

“Too damn long,” John said, standing up and putting his arms around her. He tilted her head back and kissed her throat, tiny soft kisses that finally ended on her mouth, gentle and sweet, his lips just parted.

Alex watched for a while and loved watching, but he wasn’t going to stay on the couch alone. He joined them and nudged John out of the way, kissing Eliza himself, more demanding than John, sliding his tongue between her lips and pulling her body tight to his, while John stood behind him, rubbing up against him.

They made it to the bed, fumbling and laughing and kicking off their clothes on the way, and then it was just as it had always been with them. The first time, they had all been uneasy and fearful of hurting each other’s feelings, but after a few minutes it had felt so right and so good that they’d stopped worrying about whether it was “normal” and had just concentrated on the touching and the tasting, and the exploring of each other’s bodies, and after that, it all became easy.

“Let’s put Eliza in the middle first,” John said.

“Because she tastes so good,” Alex agreed, and they lay one on each side of her, their hands and mouths moving over her.

“I hope,” Eliza gasped as John sucked on her nipple and Alex slid his hand between her legs, “that you guys brought condoms.”

John laughed against her breast, and Alex slid his fingers back and forth, not quite opening her. “Never travel without them,” he said.

She rolled over, pulling John with her so that he was on the bottom, and she began to kiss his throat, and then his chest, and she reached down to feel him rock hard. It would feel really good to slide down over that, but not yet. She smiled at Alex and moved over for him and watched him take John in his mouth. John’s face was so beautiful, his lips parted, his pupils dilated, completely unfocused and just feeling, not thinking. She began to kiss him, her tongue flicking in and out of his mouth, and he made little whimpering noises as Alex licked and sucked and took him deeper and deeper, a little at a time. His body began to arch and she kept kissing him and he heard her whisper, “You’re so beautiful, my sweet John,” and finally Alex’s mouth took him all the way in, and he tangled his hand in Eliza’s hair and pulled her to him as he felt himself explode and his cries were muffled against her mouth. He came down slowly, with Eliza and Alex both kissing him, and Eliza telling him how beautiful he was.

“I love to watch you,” Eliza whispered.

“Then I get to watch you too,” he said, moving to the side so that she was back in the middle. He began to caress her breasts, squeezing them and playing with her nipples, rolling them between his fingers. “Is that good?" he asked, smiling. 

“Yeah,” she said, “really good.”

“How about this?” Alex asked, slipping one finger inside her.

“Yeah, that’s good too.”

He moved his finger in a slow circle, pushing gently against the sides of her vagina. He slid another finger in, creating just a little more pressure. John bent his head to take her nipple in his mouth, sucking it, and then nipping it just a bit with his teeth, as Alex moved his fingers in wider circles, stretching her. Alex kept his fingers inside and put his head next to John’s, so that they could each suck on one breast. She gasped and pulled their heads against her, wanting more. Alex moved his fingers farther, and finally started using his thumb. She was already so aroused that it took her to the edge very fast, so he pulled back and slowed down.

John lifted his head to kiss her, and Alex slid between her legs, rubbing against her. She lifted her hips and John whispered, “Does that feel good, baby girl?” and he kissed her again, while his hand went back to her breasts. Alex started to enter her, then pulled back, making her wait, keeping his thumb moving slowly. She spread her legs farther and pushed forward, and John whispered to her again. “You want that inside you, don’t you?”

“Mm-hmm,” she whimpered, pushing her hips forward.

“It feels so good inside,” John murmured against her ear. “I love it inside me too.”

Alex pushed all the way in and then moved back and forth, slowly at first, then faster, going deeper and pushing harder, and all the time John was whispering to her about how good it was.

Alex felt her getting tighter and pushed harder. His eyes met John’s over Eliza’s spread body and he heard John say, “Our Alex is just _so damn good_ at fucking.”

Eliza thrust her hips up and let out a sort of keening wail as Alex slammed into her, and John leaned over to kiss his mouth as he came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've dropped enough clues that you know there is some hard stuff coming up. Some of you may even know what it is. The violence in this Mission won't be graphic, but it will have consequences for everyone involved. That's my warning, if you need one.  
> Thank you all for reading and staying this long and caring about what happens to these people. Thank you so much for the kudos and comments and good wishes. I always love to hear from you.


	39. Stay in It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desi and Burr move again. Molly has information on Reynolds. Something happens down south, on the coast. Alex, John, and Eliza enjoy themselves.

The front door to Grammy Nell’s house was locked, and Gil had stupidly forgotten to get the other key from Tony. Alex wouldn’t have forgotten, he reminded himself. He knocked and waited, and knocked again, turning around to shrug at Herc and Ben on the van. He finally heard the noise of the lock opening, and Desi opened the door a crack.

“Jesus, you scared me,” she said, opening the door the rest of the way when she saw him.

“You didn’t get Tony’s text?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Maybe he sent it to my old phone.”

“ _Merde,”_ Gil muttered. “Look, can we come in?”

“Oh, yeah, of course, sorry.”

They all sat in the tiny crowded living room, and Gil introduced Herc and Ben. Desi, wearing a pink robe and fuzzy slippers, obviously had no idea why they were there.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Okay, I hate to be the one to tell you,” Gil began, “but we’re here to move you to a different house.” He held up his hand as Desi opened her mouth to protest. “I know, but it’s a much better house, bigger and more comfortable.”

“It has to be today?” Desi asked.

“I’m sorry, yeah. You were supposed to get a warning, but I guess it didn’t go through.”

“I’m not even dressed,” Desi said distractedly, as though that mattered.

“Is Burr here?” Gil asked.

“No, he’s working. This is his last week, though.” She frowned. “Where is the other house?”

“About four blocks away,” Gil told her. “Actually, we haven’t been there yet, because the plan was to pick up the first load of furniture here and then go there.”

Desi nodded. “Okay,” she said. “We’ll manage. I’ll go throw some clothes on, and we’ll get started. Make coffee if you want.”

They all had coffee, and Gil took advantage of the break to show Desi the sketch that John had done of the guy they had seen with Sadie Shippen. She looked at it and nodded. “Yeah, that looks like Jay Reynolds. I couldn’t swear to it in court, but I’m pretty sure.”

“John said the sketch was pretty rough because he only saw Reynolds and the other girl for a few minutes and wasn’t planning on having to draw them,” Gil told her. He held out the other sketch.

Desi studied it and shook her head. “I don’t think I know her,” she said. “I couldn’t say I’ve never seen her in my life, but she doesn’t look familiar.”

“Okay, that’s fine, at least you’ve helped us with Reynolds. We’re trying to find out more about him.”

Gil put the sketches away, and the guys started loading up the van with all the furniture they had just moved a few days before.

Andy was waiting for them at the house, as arranged, to give Gil the key.

“Thanks for doing this,” he said. “Otherwise, we’d lose this house for taxes, like so many other people have.”

“On the contrary, we thank you,” Gil told him. “You’re helping us keep people safe.”

Andy wanted to show him around the house, so they took a few minutes. There were beds in two of the bedrooms, and the couch in the family room was a sofa bed like the one at the cabin, only newer and better-sprung. The kitchen had sufficient pots and pans and dishes, and the basement looked like it had once been a playroom, with alphabet-block patterned flooring.

The good thing was that there was room for all of Desi’s furniture. She started directing them where to put it, but it was clear that she was tired, and Ben made her go lie down on the couch. She called Burr, and he left work early to see what was going on.

“So this is where we live now?” he asked, bewildered, as he and Gil took a break for coffee in the kitchen.

“Yeah, sorry,” Gil told him. “We didn’t know until a couple of days ago, and, to be honest, I don’t know why the move had to be made now. Everything we do is need to know, for security.”

“Understandable,” Burr said. “I’m not complaining. You guys have been very good to us.”

“Well, you’ve helped us out, so that’s fair.”

“Have you heard anything about something going on down south?” Burr asked.

Gil frowned and shook his head. “Where down south? What do you mean?”

“Just some stuff on the news,” Burr responded. “We get an official newsfeed at work, but it’s hard to know what’s accurate and what’s not. Still, there’s usually at least some element of truth in the story. They’re talking about explosions and destruction of property, probably something like you guys did here.”

“Did they say where?” Gil wanted to know.

“Somewhere on the coast,” Burr said. “You know how it is – they want to scare people as much as possible, so they don’t give precise information about the location, keep everybody worried.”

Gil was silent, wondering if this had anything to do with Alex’s Mission. TJ’s squad was in Norfolk, and Norfolk was on the coast, but TJ would hardly need three additional people to blow up a few buildings.

“I don’t know anything about it,” he finally said to Burr, frustration evident in his voice.

“How long have you been doing it?” Burr asked.

“Doing what?”

Burr gestured vaguely. “This. The Movement.”

“Almost three years,” Gil said. It felt like thirty.

“And you have a wife and a little girl?”

“Our little girl is my wife’s baby sister, but yeah.”

Burr looked at Gil’s weary face for a long minute. “I don’t know how you haven’t lost your mind,” he said.

“Me neither,” Gil told him honestly.

* * * * *

"Hey, is there any food?" John asked, sitting up.

Alex, still half asleep, tucked the blanket up over his shoulder. "You mean we can't live on just amazingly mind-blowing sex?"

Eliza tried to pull John back down under the covers. "Well, maybe for a few days," she said.

John disagreed. “I’m pretty sure we can have both. Right now, I’m hungry.”

Alex finally rolled to his side and leaned on his elbow. "What about those eggs? You used to make killer omelets."

"There's no stove," Eliza pointed out. "You can't make omelets in a microwave."

"Bet I can," John said, and tried to get out of bed, but Alex caught him and held on.

John laughed. “You’re not going to get any breakfast.”

“Come on, just a kiss,” Alex coaxed.

John couldn’t refuse and leaned in for the kiss, sighing as Alex slid his hand up to hold the back of his head.

“I miss your curls,” Alex whispered.

“I swear to you, I will unbraid my hair as soon as we get home.”

Eliza snuggled up against them and said, “I want a kiss, too.”

John obliged, and then reluctantly pulled away. “Food,” he reminded them.

Eliza unwillingly let go, and John went to investigate the kitchen area. He hooted in triumph when he found an old but functioning electric skillet. “Look at this!” he said, holding it up. There was no response, and he looked at the other two in the bed and shook his head. “Oh, so unfair.”

“We’ll make it up to you,” Alex promised from under the covers.

“Later,” Eliza agreed, her voice somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

“I better get to be in the middle,” John told them.

* * * * *

“You should be with Desi when the midwife comes,” Ben said to Burr, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “She’s meeting us here in about an hour.”

That was Herc’s cue to leave, taking Desi’s car. He’d traded his watch cap for a dark blue Penn hat, and was wearing one of Angelica’s scarves, an abstract print with a blue border. With the steel-rimmed glasses, he looked like a stylish graduate student, not at all like the grim-faced guy in the news pictures.

The midwife, whose name was Annie, arrived right on time. She greeted Ben warmly. They had never met, but she knew people who had previously worked with him and had heard nothing but positive things about him. They spent a few minutes catching up on mutual acquaintances, and then she turned to Desi.

“I need to be completely upfront with you from the start,” Annie said. “First, I’m a registered nurse, but not a certified midwife. I worked OB-GYN for years, and after the First Insurrection, I started helping women who couldn’t get proper medical care, either because they didn’t have enough money or because they couldn’t legally be admitted to hospitals. Part of that help ended up being delivering babies, and now I work with several others doing the same thing, mostly women, mostly nurses or EMT’s like Ben here. We operate under the radar because only two of us are actually doctors, and both of them lost their licenses for treating Hopes or Deplos in a Have hospital. They’re good doctors, though, and they still save lives.”

“We’ve just begun living undercover,” Desi told her. “I have a … um, past connection with someone in King’s government, and he can’t know where we are. These guys found a house for us, and they’re helping us out.”

Annie nodded. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about Ben,” she said warmly. She turned to him and Gil. “So you guys have been providing medical care for some of the Movement squads, right? What have you done?”

Gil shrugged, “Stitched up lacerations, mostly.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “Performed trauma surgery under IV anesthesia, did a direct transfusion for a patient going into shock, reinflated a collapsed lung.”

Annie sat back. “Shit, you haven’t been messing around.”

“You do what you have to do,” Gil said.

“Lose anybody?”

Ben shook his head. “Close, but no. He’s okay.”

“By good luck as much as anything,” Gil added.

“That’s always true,” Annie told him. “Don’t let anybody tell you it’s always the doctor’s fault.” She turned back to Desi and Burr, who had been staring at Ben and Gil with new respect. “Anyway, most births are uneventful, and we do everything we can to keep you and your baby safe. With a first baby, we want somebody to be with you as early as possible, so you have to get us word as soon as you go into labor. Do you guys have a runner?”

“A what?” Burr asked.

“Wow, you are new to undercover,” Annie responded. “We use runners to communicate. Most of us don’t have phones and even if we did, it wouldn’t be safe to send messages about illegal medical activity. In the city, everybody has runners, kids who literally run from one place to another with messages. When you go into labor, you’ll send your runner to get word to me or whichever midwife is closest.”

Gil interrupted her. “Tell me more about these runners. We’ve been living out in the woods, but we’ll be in the city soon too, and we’ll need to know about them.”

“Most of the runners are kids about twelve or thirteen, but we’ve had some as young as ten. Let’s say Desi here goes into labor, so Aaron walks over to visit a neighbor, let’s call her Mary Smith. Susie Smith is twelve, and she’s a runner. She’s part of our network, and we send out word throughout the day updating where we’re located. So maybe I’m somewhere in Center City, several miles away. Susie doesn’t go to Center City, but she runs to the next kid in the network, Bobby Jones, with the message. Then Bobby takes the message to the next runner, and so on. It’s remarkably efficient.”

“How many runners in your network?” Burr asked.

“Hundreds, maybe a thousand. And of course, these kids are in other networks as well. I couldn’t begin to tell you how many networks there are in the city, thousands for sure, everything from plumbers to piano teachers. The runners are our internet directory.”

“That’s amazing,” Burr said. “But how do we pay them? We’re not going to have any cash.”

Annie smiled. “You don’t. They volunteer. These are kids who are too young to fight in the usual way. They don’t carry guns, but this is their way of supporting the Movement.”

Gil’s throat tightened. “Rise up,” he murmured.

* * * * *

Alex swallowed the last bite of his omelet and took a swallow of coffee. “God, that was good.”

“Literally the best meal I’ve had in years,” Eliza agreed. “My compliments to the chef.”

“The chef is looking forward to those compliments,” John told her.

“Oh, you’ll get them,” Eliza promised. “We know how much we owe you for this excellent meal.”

“Mm-hmm,” John said. “I just hope the chef doesn’t have to wait too long.”

“Before we get distracted, though,” Alex broke in, “I’m going to have to go to the office.”

“Office?” Eliza questioned, puzzled.

“Where we picked up the key last night,” Alex explained. “I need to check on something.”

“You haven’t gotten any messages, have you?” John asked.

“Nope.”

“And does that worry you?”

“Probably not.”

“Okay. You know, I’m beginning to think there really is no Mission going on,” John said with a laugh. “You just set this up so you could get us away with you.”

Alex’s face went still and somber. “I wish that were true.”

“Hey, just a joke.”

“Yeah, I know.” He leaned over and gave John a quick kiss. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he added, reaching for the car keys.

“How long do you think he’ll be gone?” John asked Eliza, giving Alex a sideways glance from under his lashes.

“How long do we need?” she responded.

Alex paused for just a minute in the doorway. “Don’t start without me.”

They were all laughing like kids when he left.

* * * * *

Gil and Herc were both tired from lugging furniture around all day. It was only fair that they let Desi decide where everything went and that they moved it for her, since she certainly couldn’t do it, and Burr couldn’t do it without help. By the time they were done, all four bedrooms were furnished with beds, and Desi had promised that she and Burr would make them up with the new linens that Herc had purchased. There was a small table with four chairs in the kitchen and a big one with six chairs in the dining room. They kept the sofa bed in the family room, and added another single bed that they threw a cover and pillows on to serve as extra seating for now and maybe a hospital bed later. Gil fervently hoped they would not have to use that family room for medical space, but it was better to be prepared. They shoved the desk in there too, as that seemed most practical, and it had to go somewhere.

“That desk doesn’t look right in there,” Herc was arguing on the way home. “The sofa bed and the day bed have a very contemporary look, but the desk is totally traditional. I mean, brass drawer pulls!”

“Please shut up,” Gil told him, his eyes on the road.

“Seriously, the desk would be better in the dining room, and we could move that bookshelf into the family room,” Herc continued.

“I don’t care,” Gil said.

“Man, this is my artistic calling! I could make that place look good.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” Gil responded, “but since I have absolutely no interest, I can’t have a conversation about it. I’m going to start reviewing medication dosages out loud.”

“You’re on,” Ben put in from the back seat.

“Okay,” Gil agreed, “amoxicillin, otitis media, pediatric.”

“Twenty to fifty milligrams per kilogram of body weight per day,” Ben answered immediately, “divided into two or three doses. If it’s acute strep-resistant, you can go as high as eighty or ninety milligrams per kilo. Oh, and that’s all for patients over four months. You want to do young infants?”

“Nah, I could cheat off what you just said. Give me another one,” Gil said.

“Erythromycin, severe pneumonia, adult,” Ben challenged.

“One to four grams per day, IV,” Gil responded promptly.

“Okay, enough,” Herc said. “I promise I won’t talk interior design anymore if you guys will stop chanting medical stuff in Latin.”

“Actually, the word _erythromycin_ is from Greek,” Gil explained helpfully.

“Just stop,” Herc told him.

“Okay, truce,” Gil laughed.

When they pulled up in front of the cabin, Ben got out to take the wheel and go back to Tony’s, but before he could start, Molly opened the cabin door and said, “Hey, Ben, can you hang around a few minutes and then take me home with you?”

Gil took his time greeting Peggy and telling her how much he had missed her all day, but eventually, he joined the others at the table, Peggy’s chair close to his so he could touch her when he wanted to. Angelica rolled her eyes, as usual, but Molly thought they were cute.

“Alex asked me to do some hacking and check some sources for him while he was gone,” Molly said. “First, I got the taxes and utilities set up for Andy’s house, so that’s all good. Second, he wanted me to look into this Jay Reynolds. Long story short, he’s not a good guy. Records in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New York for assorted crimes, mostly a variety of frauds, along with some extortion and a sprinkling of attempted blackmail. He’s got a few aliases, too, but he’s smart enough to keep them close to his own name so he can claim it was a misunderstanding. I’ve found him as James Rinaldo and J. R. Ennis.”

“Stellar citizen,” Herc commented.

“Yeah, exactly the kind who might try to become friends with Jimmy Prevost and Sadie Shippen, although he’s light years removed from their usual crowd,” Molly went on. “He seems to be able to blend in, though, knows enough to be able to fake that he’s got the same kind of money background that they come from.”

“Anything about the girl?” Gil asked. “Does he have a girlfriend?”

“Either he has a few, or just one who uses aliases the same way he does, because there are similarities with the names. We don’t know for sure if this is the girl he was with that night, but he’s been arrested at various times with Mariah Lewis, Myra Loomis, and Maria Reynolds, so they might even be married.”

“Desi took a look at the sketches John did. She was pretty sure the guy was Reynolds, but didn’t recognize the girl.”

“What’s the girl been arrested for?” Angelica asked.

“Same as him, mostly,” Molly said. “Their specialty seems to be insurance fraud – you know, where they stop their car suddenly so they get rear-ended and then claim injury. I mean, nobody gets accidentally rear-ended seven times in less than a year.”

“But it’s good, I guess that they haven’t done anything violent,” Gil commented thoughtfully. “I’d worry more if they had records of violent assault or armed robbery.”

“True,” Herc agreed. “They’re probably going to be like Sadie Shippen, a real pain in the ass, but not too dangerous.

* * * * *

Alex came back from the office in less than half an hour, and, while John and Eliza had indeed started without him, they’d kept the pace slow so that he could join right in.

“You owe me the middle,” John said, pulling Alex down on his left.

“I am happy to let you have the middle position,” Alex smiled.

“He’s lying,” Eliza said. “He always wants the middle.”

“You want the middle, _mi amor?_ ” John asked softly, his mouth on Alex’s.

“I want everywhere,” Alex told him.

John’s hand slid down the center of his chest, very lightly.

Eliza, on the other side of John, was kissing the back of his neck and running her hands over his hips. Alex reached around and caught her hand, pulling on it. “C’mere,” he said. “Come kiss me.”

“He really wants the middle,” Eliza whispered in John’s ear, and he could feel her smile. “He’s so spoiled.”

“I heard that,” Alex said. “If I’m spoiled, whose fault is it?”

“Oh, we admit to spoiling you,” Eliza admitted, lifting her left leg over John and rubbing against his hip. “Mm, that feels good. Maybe I’ll just stay here.”

John took one hand off Alex for a minute to push it palm up under Eliza. He moved his fingers up and down as she pressed herself against him. “Oh, that’s good,” she murmured, and John kept doing it.

“I still need a kiss,” Alex said, “and now John’s playing with you when I want you. Is this how you spoil me?”

“No, this is how we spoil you,” John said, lifting Alex with his other hand and turning him so that he was on his side, then pressing himself tight to him.

Eliza laughed and slid reluctantly away from John’s hand to press herself against Alex from the front, scissoring her legs with his and pushing herself down on him, rubbing back and forth.

“Now we’re spoiling you,” she said to Alex. She put her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to kiss him, knowing as she did that it gave John the sensitive back of his neck to nibble on. Eliza’s tongue slid into Alex’s mouth, and John’s darted behind his ear and along his throat. This was the best part of being in the middle for Alex, being caressed from all around and losing track of whose hands were where, Eliza’s softness pressing into his mouth and John hard and demanding from behind, and both of them stroking and kissing and telling him they loved him. He moved just enough to get a hand between Eliza’s legs, and John murmured “Don’t get away,” and held him with his teeth in his shoulder. John had both hands on Alex’s waist, holding him tight as he pressed in very, very slowly. Alex was gasping, and his whimpers and moans of pleasure aroused Eliza even more. She tried to change her position a little, but John, fused into Alex, reached forward and pulled her in, keeping her legs closed, holding her so tightly to Alex’s front that she could feel everything either one of them was doing.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, “you’re the best. Oh, please, more.”

Alex had one hand pressed against Eliza, moving in a circle and then just back and forth. She whimpered and tried to get her legs apart so he could get his hand where she wanted it, but John kept them positioned so their weight held her legs tight, and she was caught on the very edge of orgasm. She couldn’t quite get in the right position to make it spill over, and she gasped, straining her hips forward and begging both of them, “Please.”

John was in total control, doing everything he could to make it the best he could for the two that he loved. He held both of them with all his strength for a few more strokes, and then finally relented, lifting Alex just a little to let Eliza spread her legs wide. She thrust her hips forward and Alex pushed into her as John pushed into him, hard. John arched his back, and his eyes lost focus, seeing only stars. “Oh, God, yes! Come for me, baby girl,” and he could have been talking to either of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's behind the news story about trouble in the south? How much longer do Alex, John, and Eliza get to have fun before things get serious?  
> Gil wants to start family life with Peggy and Katie, and he is so ready for the insurrection to be over. I hope that doesn't make him careless.  
> I love that so many of you out there are looking for clues and putting two and two together (although occasionally you may get five) as you follow our squad's adventures. Thanks so much for letting me know what you think. I love hearing from all of you. A BIG thank you for all the recent kudos! <3 <3 <3


	40. Laurens Is in South Carolina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally an explanation of what Alex, John, and Eliza are doing. Nobody is happy with the explanation.

Alex’s phone rang at around two-thirty in the afternoon. They had just been hanging around lazily, debating whether to start a fire in the fireplace and making out randomly in and out of bed.

“This is probably the best twenty-four hours of my life,” John had said.

“Better than all the time we had in the apartment in New York?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, because we were just getting started then. We didn’t know how it was going to go, and there were – well, bumps in the road.”

“Was I a bump?” Eliza inquired, her head on John’s lap.

“It might have seemed like it, but not really,” Alex said. He was sitting on the floor, leaning up against the couch. “John brought you home, and then we were good.”

Eliza trailed her hand down to touch Alex’s face. “We’re really good.”

“More like spectacular,” John corrected. “But back then, at the beginning, when it was just Alex and me, it didn’t always go well.”

“That’s because you didn’t understand the whole bi thing,” Alex said.

“Yeah, well, you’re weird,” John told him.

Eliza laughed. “You figured it out, though. And if Alex is weird, so are you.”

“Because it’s you,” John said, bending down to kiss her. “Because I love you.”

“Hm?”

“I like guys, but I make an exception for you. Alex just likes everybody.”

“Is there something wrong with that?” Alex asked.

“Theoretically, no,” Eliza said, smiling up at John, “but it can get complicated.”

“Life is complicated,” Alex declared.

“He’s got an answer for everything,” John told Eliza.

“But we love him.”

“God, yes.”

Alex had just turned around to kiss John when the sound of his phone made them all jump. He brushed his lips lightly over John’s and went to get the phone from the kitchen counter.

Eliza sat up, watching him.

“Hey,” Alex said to whoever was calling. He listened for a long time, then, “Okay. Maybe four hours.” He turned to John and Eliza with an infinite sadness in his eyes. “We have to go.”

They got on the road and drove southeast, heading toward the coast. Alex had very little to say.

“We’re in South Carolina,” John said, watching the road signs. “We going to Charleston?”

There was no answer. The land grew flatter as they went east, the Blue Ridge far behind them now, scrub pine on either side of the road, interspersed with swampy patches. The air was humid and warmer, softer somehow.

“What the hell’s going on, Alex?” John asked, tired of being ignored.

“I’ll tell you when we get there.”

“Fuck you, I’m not five years old. Don’t talk to me like you’re my father.”

Alex took a breath. “Don’t say that, _mi amor._ ”

“Don’t call me your love if you won’t even tell me what’s going on. You love me, you talk to me.”

Alex stayed silent, and Eliza watched them both with troubled eyes, her hands tightly clasped in her lap. What was Alex doing that was marring all the love and joy that they had shared for the last two days?

“Alex,” she said, “I don’t care what kind of Mission this is, I don’t care what we’re going to do, but you can’t just not communicate with us. We’re with you, but it’s not fair that we don’t even know what’s expected of us.”

“I can’t,” Alex started, and his voice caught. He swallowed and started again. “I’ll tell you when we get there.”

If Eliza hadn’t known better, she would have said he was afraid.

John, in the back seat, kicked the door and cursed under his breath.

The sun was close to the horizon when Alex turned down a small side road with swamp on both sides. They drove about ten miles, then turned again, and Alex stopped the car in front of a weather-beaten building that had a sign on the front, Rod and Gun Club. They got out of the car, and, before they could go in, Alex grabbed John’s hand.

 _“Escucha, mi amor,”_ he said. “Whatever happens, whatever you may think when it’s over, I made the decisions I made because I love you.”

“Then tell me,” John said, his clear hazel eyes locked on Alex’s brown ones.

“It’s not mine to tell,” Alex responded, “but …”

John dropped his hand in disgust.

Eliza tried to pull him back, but John just shook his head at her. Alex squared his shoulders and knocked at the door.

The guy who opened the door was tall and bony with a wide forehead and a beaky nose. He clapped Alex on the shoulder and ushered them in, then turned and held out his hand. “I’m Pete Horry,” he said. “You’re John Laurens and Eliza Schuyler, right?”

Eliza shook hands with him, but John looked at him stonily and asked, “Are you the one who’s going to tell us what the fuck is going on?”

“Come in and sit down,” Pete told them without responding to John’s question.

There was another guy in the room, standing over in the corner. He was small, even shorter than Alex, thin and dark. When he crossed to greet them, he leaned on a cane and walked with a limp as if he were recovering from an injury.

“John Laurens,” he said, “I’m glad to finally meet you. I’m Frank Marion.”

John nodded by way of greeting. “I’ve heard your name.”

Frank turned to Eliza. “I know you must be wondering why you’re here. Please don’t hold it against Alex that he wasn’t cleared to talk to you.” Frank Marion’s voice was gentle and courteous, and Eliza smiled at him.

The room was set up with a sort of lounge area on one end and a conference table with chairs on the other. Frank motioned them to sit on the couch and armchairs, and they did, although John stayed on the edge of his seat. Alex was in the chair next to him, watching him, but John wouldn’t make eye contact.

Eliza studied Frank Marion from her seat across the room. She had heard both Alex and TJ say he was the best squad leader in the Movement, inspiring devotion in those who worked with him and consistently exhibiting brilliance and courage in his strategies. She found it hard to match that description to the unprepossessing, soft-spoken guy in front of her.

“I know that a few weeks ago, your squad participated in a preliminary Mission in Philadelphia to set up for Dolphin,” Frank began in his quiet voice. “I understand, John, that you distinguished yourself in that Mission, both in your courage and in your rapport with the citizens.”

“Rise up,” John muttered flippantly, and Frank Marion leaned forward, his face thoughtful.

“You must feel like you’ve been blindsided,” Frank said.

John looked up at that, surprised. “Yeah.”

Frank turned and spoke over his shoulder. “Pete, can you get us some coffee?”

Pete Horry disappeared into another room and they sat in silence, John staring at the floor, Alex chewing on his lip, Frank tenting his fingers and frowning. Eliza kept her hands in her lap, wishing they would get on with it, whatever it was. It seemed to be about John, and the thought occurred to her that they wanted John for some heroic Mission, something really dangerous. She tried to banish that thought quickly because it didn’t make any sense. If it were that, why would she or even Alex have to be there? If they needed to ask John about something, they could ask him back in Philadelphia; they wouldn’t have him travel all this distance.

Pete handed out coffee. There wasn’t any sugar, but they drank it gratefully, and after a few minutes, Frank spoke again.

“I’m going to tell you this from the beginning to the end,” he said to John, “so I’m going to ask you to be patient. You may feel like I’m wasting your time, but I want you to understand how decisions were made. You deserve the truth.”

“Glad you recognize that,” John said, with a sideways glance at Alex.

“A few months back,” Frank went on, “the General contacted me with a serious problem. He’d just had a visit from Alex and TJ, and they had revealed to him that one of the bravest and most dedicated members of the Movement was likely to put himself at risk to take care of his brothers and sisters in the event of his father's death. The General found this very troubling, because plans had been made to destroy his father, the well-known Have and friend of President King, Henry Laurens.”

John was sitting up straight now, his eyes on Frank.

“There was a lot of discussion, John, and I want you to know that it was Alex who most ardently defended your commitment to the Movement. We heard from TJ, too, that you had told him you had long ago repudiated the values and principles of your father.”

John nodded. “That’s right,” he said, but warily, not knowing where this was leading.

“We had several possible strategies on the table at that point,” Frank continued. “One thing that the General was adamant about, though, was that Henry Laurens was to be eliminated.”

Eliza heard John’s breathing quicken, but he didn’t move.

“That requirement limited our choices,” Frank said, “and, as always, we had multiple goals: complete the Mission, keep collateral damage to a minimum, protect our squad members.”

“What exactly was the Mission?”

“Destroy at least part of Henry Laurens’s manufacturing enterprise and eliminate Henry Laurens himself,” Frank told him.

“Is my father dead?” John asked quietly.

Frank paused for a minute. “Yes.”

“Okay,” John said in the same flat voice. “Where are the kids?”

“I started out saying that I was going to relate this from beginning to end, but I didn’t feel that it was fair not to answer your question. The kids are safe. I want to tell you the rest of it the way it happened. We didn’t give you any say in it, so we owe you the full story.”

John nodded, breathing hard, but controlled.

“When TJ and Alex first discussed this, Alex was positive that if your father was dead, you would feel responsible for your younger brothers and sisters.”

“Yeah,” John nodded.

“Alex was also aware, and TJ agreed with him, that to have you come here after your father’s death to look after the children would almost certainly put your life at risk. Alex knows you well enough to know that wouldn’t deter you from what you felt was your duty.”

“Alex knew you were going to kill my father?” John asked, forcing the words out one by one.

“Yes.”

John turned and stared at Alex, his face colder and bleaker than Eliza had ever seen it. Her throat closed and she gulped, stifling a sob. Alex reached a hand out to John, but John ignored it and turned back to Frank.

“Go on,” he said.

“The original plan was to eliminate Henry Laurens during Dolphin, but after these facts came to light, the General recommended that we complete that Mission earlier, during the preliminary exercise. Accordingly, early this morning, your father’s factory was targeted, and your father died from injuries sustained in the incident.”

“You’re telling me my father died at the factory?”

“That’s correct.”

“That’s ridiculous. My father never went to the factory. He hired managers because he didn’t want to mix with the Deplos who worked there. He was about as likely to be at the factory in the middle of the night as he was to be on the moon.”

“Our information is that he died as a result of injuries sustained in the attack on his factory,” Frank repeated very formally.

“Bullshit,” John said.

“I’d like to go on with the story,” Frank told him.

“Okay.” Coldly.

“We were aware that you had not been in contact with your father in some time and we were not sure what the situation was with regard to the younger children. Fortunately, we were able to make contact with the housekeeper, Ana Morales, who has worked with us through all of this.” Frank allowed himself a small smile. “She seems to be very fond of you.”

John nodded, and for the first time, Eliza saw his lip tremble.

“Our plan was originally that the factory would not be a target. Destroying that factory would destroy jobs for several hundred innocent people. We planned to target his private shipping wharf. That would temporarily delay shipments but would not throw people out of work. We also considered targeting his personal residence, but decided against that because of the children. Do you mind if I ask you how long it’s been since you saw your siblings?”

“About five years.”

“So the oldest was about nine and the youngest an infant?”

John nodded.

“May I ask why you haven’t been in contact with them?”

“My father essentially disowned me when I was sixteen. He would not allow me to have any contact with the kids.”

“And they were too young to make contact with you on their own?”

“Yes, and anyway …” John began, then shrugged.

“Anyway?”

“My father was raising them. He could tell them anything he wanted about me. Why would they want to be in touch with me?”

“I understand. Let me continue. We made arrangements to have your father be in the factory late last night. We needed him out of the house so that we could move the children to a safe house, where they are now. We decided that there would be an attack on the factory so that his death could be passed off as related to that, but that the damage would be minimal.”

“You ‘made arrangements’ for him to be in the factory? How?”

“You may not be surprised to learn that you father was, let’s say, amenable to making a profit in ways that do not conform to the law.”

John gave a snort of disgust. “Of course. Completely devoted to President King and his laws unless there was something in it for him. So he was meeting with, what, a black market profiteer?”

“Essentially, yes. Of course, it was one of our operatives …”

“Who then killed him?”

“Our information is that he died of injuries sustained when the factory was attacked.”

“Okay, whatever you say.”

“There was relatively little damage to the factory, so it will be up and running again soon. While that attack was going on, other squad members, myself included, took charge of the children.”

“Can I see them?” John asked.

Frank nodded. “Soon. Unfortunately, the attack on the factory drew attention, and a unit of Greaters was sent to the house. We got everyone out safely, but the children may have been frightened. You’ll want to take that into consideration.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ll get to that. I’m still trying to give you the information in order.”

“Tell him what happened to your ankle,” Pete Horry said, speaking up for the first time.

Frank dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Not important.”

“No, he should know.” Pete looked directly at John. “One of the kids, the little one, was scared to death – well, they were all scared. She was screaming and crying for her rabbit. Seems she’s got this stuffed rabbit that she drags everywhere with her. Frank went back into the house to get it and had just found it in her room when the Greaters came in the front door shooting the place up. Frank took the shortest way out of the house: the window. The bedrooms are on the second floor, so it messed up his ankle.”

“I’m okay,” Frank said impatiently. “Let’s just stay with what’s important. We were successful in destroying the wharf, and the children are safe. Ana Morales and her husband Manuel are with them.”

“And that’s it, then?” John asked.

“That brings us to where we are now.”

“Then maybe you can tell me,” John said, his voice like ice, “since all you geniuses – let’s see, you and TJ and the General and Alex – planned all of this without one word to me, what’s going to happen to the kids? Who’s going to take care of them?”

“We were hoping you would have some ideas about that,” Frank responded quietly.

“Oh, so now I get to have an opinion? Now I get to be part of this?” John jumped to his feet. “Fuck you! Fuck all of you! You all assumed you knew me without asking me a single question. You assumed I would be okay with my father being executed, assumed I would show up here no matter what the effect would be on the Movement, and then my dear, dear Alex, you …” He was facing Alex now, spitting words at him, “You fucking bring me and Eliza down here after it’s over? Is that because the grown-ups have made all the important decisions, and now you’re going to let us children participate in whatever the hell this is? Fuck you and your God complex! This didn’t come from TJ or the General or Frank here, this was all you, so sure you know me better than I know myself, so goddam supremely confident that you are right about every fucking thing. Well, this time, _mi amor,_ you got it all wrong, and I hope you burn in hell.”

Before anyone could stop him, he launched himself at Alex, and his fist connected with Alex’s face, knocking him down. Alex didn’t fight back, just curled up on the floor, trying to protect his face with his arms, and John kept punching him. Eliza screamed and grabbed John’s arm, but he swatted her back like a gnat, and it was finally Pete Horry who got hold of John and pulled him off Alex, who was bleeding from his nose and a cut on his cheekbone. Frank, hampered by his injured ankle, managed to help Pete drag John back, but he was still struggling and kicking and yelling. Alex lay on the floor, shaking, and Eliza went to him. She knelt down and touched his face, and he flinched. “Go,” he said. “Take care of John.”

She stood up, looking from Alex to John and back again, tears running down her face. Frank and Pete had managed to wrestle John into a chair, and Frank was next to him, talking to him softly. John was panting like he had run a mile, gulping in air and gulping down sobs. Eliza went to him and he looked up at her, agony in his eyes. He shook his head at her. “Please leave me alone,” he said. “Just please go.”

She stepped back, feeling as if the floor was about to give way under her, and sank to her knees, her heart breaking. She loved them both more than life itself, but she was useless to them now. She stayed there, sobbing, for what seemed like a long time. After a while, she became aware of Pete Horry kneeling down beside her. She looked up and realized that John was following Frank out the door. “John, don’t go!” she wailed, but he didn’t even look back.

“Eliza,” Pete was saying, his hand on her shoulder, and she turned to him blindly.

“Sit down here on the chair,” he said, helping her up. “I’ll get you some water.”

“Alex?” she asked, looking around, and saw that Alex was lying on the couch, holding a towel to his face. She ignored the chair Pete was trying to help her into and went to kneel beside the couch. She kissed Alex’s hand, and he moved the towel so he could see her, and she kissed his bloody face. There was as much anguish in his eyes as there had been in John’s. She leaned close to him and whispered, “I don’t know what to do.”

“I broke us,” Alex said, and she wiped the blood and tears off his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frank didn't get a chance to finish, so there's still more that John doesn't know. Our sweet John will have a lot on his shoulders soon. Are Alex, John,and Eliza broken?
> 
> This Mission still isn't over, so stay with us. I'll be updating again in a few days.
> 
> Many thanks to all of you who are commenting and leaving kudos. I will try to keep writing interesting stuff.


	41. Grew Up Buck Wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has to come to terms with a painful past that he has kept hidden for years.

Frank drove a rusty ten-year-old Chevy Malibu that might have been blue or gray. John couldn’t tell in the half-dark and wasn’t paying attention anyway.

“It wasn’t all Alex,” Frank said as he turned left onto the narrow road.

John didn’t answer, looking out the window at nothing.

“It was all of us,” Frank went on in his quiet voice. “A lot of it was TJ. He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s not stupid. It was TJ who really got through to the General.”

John shifted in his seat to get a better view of the dark pine forest beside the road.

“The thing they wrestled with,” Frank continued, “was whether to tell you in advance. The General wanted to just let you in on the plan, and if you went to Charleston to get the kids, so be it. If you got killed, well, that’s the cost of war. TJ wouldn’t let Alex talk about keeping you safe, because it’s too personal with Alex. The General couldn’t see any reason to change strategy to maybe save the life of one guy. It was TJ who convinced him that you were important enough militarily to change the plan.”

“Sure,” John muttered.

“Look at it from the General’s point of view: you’re not important because you’re Alex’s boyfriend or a good soldier; you’re important because you’re Henry Laurens’s son. Henry Laurens represented the King government and the Have lifestyle in every way – rich, selfish, oppressive, and cruel.”

John made a stifled sound.

“What?” Frank asked.

“I didn’t say anything.” John rubbed the bruises on his right hand where he had smashed it into Alex’s face.

“TJ talked to the General about your symbolic value. If Henry Laurens’s son would be part of the Movement, stand up and publicly repudiate his father, what did that say about the government? King and the Haves are so bad that even this man’s firstborn son can’t defend him. TJ’s good with words, no doubt about it. He painted you as a leader too valuable to lose. I guess you said some things to him about your father that impressed him with your dedication.”

“I might have,” John said sullenly.

“Well, that helped convince the General that your life might be worth saving. The other issue was the kids, your brothers and sisters, and how much responsibility you might feel you had to take for them. Honestly, John, we don’t have any provision for kids in the Movement. We leave it up to individuals to look after their own kids. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. Most members of the Movement are separated from their kids. It was Alex who talked about your squad taking care of a little girl …”

“Katie,” John murmured, his voice catching.

“Yeah, Katie Schuyler. Alex swore that he would find a place for your brothers and sisters, that he would have that all worked out before we made any move on Henry Laurens.”

It hit John with a shock. “Andy’s house,” he said.

“Who?”

John shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Anyway, if Alex was prepared to do that, the General could focus on the best military strategy without having to consider how it might affect the children.”

“I would have though my Aunt Lydia would be named guardian of the kids,” John said.

“Your aunt Lydia died three years ago.”

“Fuck. He never even called me.” John leaned his forehead against the cold glass of the window.

“He wouldn’t, would he? I knew your father, John. He was my commander for a year in the National Guard. He was a son of a bitch.”

“Yeah.”

“You were smart to get away from him as soon as you could.”

John stared out the window, rubbing his hand.

Frank waited a while before he spoke again. “Your sister Marcy told me a lot.”

“Ah, fuck.”

“You may think she didn’t know much because she was a little kid, but she saw what was going on.”

“Don’t,” John said through his teeth.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t talk about it.”

Frank shook his head. “John, we’re at war. Several people have put their own lives at risk to keep you and your brothers and sisters safe. You think anybody gives a fuck about your feelings? You may have dealt with your family issues for five years by just not talking about them, but we’re in the middle of a Mission, and we don’t have that luxury. Thanks to Alex and TJ and their considerable powers of persuasion, right now you and your siblings are safe. Well, let me rephrase that. Your siblings are physically safe, but those kids are scared."

“Just fucking stop,” John pleaded.

“No,” Frank told him. “You want to see the kids, you need to be prepared. Marcy told me you were the one who took the beatings for all of them. Did you know that she used to pray that one day you’d turn on your father and kill him? She told me that when one of the little kids got in trouble, you’d volunteer. ‘Don’t hit Marcy,’ you’d say. ‘Hit me instead.’ And your father did. He’d beat you with his hand, a belt, whatever he happened to have around.”

“A crowbar once,” John said. He tried to wipe the tears off his face with the back of his hand, but it hurt. He stared down at the bruises.

“Is that the time he broke your arm?” Frank asked.

John nodded.

“Because James had dropped the pitcher?”

“James was four,” John explained, choking. “I couldn’t let Dad hit him.”

“That was your life then, wasn’t it? Trying to protect your brothers and sisters from your vicious, sick father. Taking everything on yourself to keep them safe.”

“Yeah.”

“Just like now your job is to protect everyone in your squad even at the risk of your own life?”

“What?”

“According to Alex, you’ve sustained more injuries than anybody else in either his squad or Tony’s.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean …”

“Doesn’t it? Why did you turn on Alex back there?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Alex and TJ and you, you did all this behind my back, never asking me about it, never even consulting me.” The anger felt good, gave him some energy. He sat up straighter.

“We did it to protect you.”

“Fuck you! I don’t need protecting. I can handle it. I can take it. I don’t need you and Alex and TJ standing in front of me. Fuck all of you!” John kept yelling, using the anger as fuel.

Frank waited until he was done, and then said, almost casually, “That’s what you used to say to Marcy, isn’t it? ‘Don’t worry about me. I can take it.’”

_In his mind, John saw his twelve-year-old self locking the little kids in the attic and going downstairs, swearing to his father that he was the one who left the baseball equipment out in the rain. His father had used the baseball bat that time. Only fair, he had said. It was hours before he could get the kids out of the attic, and then he and seven-year-old Marcy had had to sneak three-year-old Harry into the bathroom and clean him up, because he had wet his pants. Henry Laurens wouldn’t stand for that sort of thing from a boy as old as three, even if he’d spent most of the day locked in an attic that didn’t have a toilet._

_John’s eyes had been so swollen he could hardly see, and Marcy had given him a washcloth wrung out in cold water to hold on them, crying and patting his face. “Johnny, you’re so hurt,” she had sobbed._

_“Nah, I’m okay,” he had told her, lying through his teeth. “Don’t worry about me. I can take it.”_

_Well, he could. He did. That didn’t really have anything to do with what was going on now._

“That’s not what this is about,” he said to Frank.

“Really? When’s the last time you told somebody not to worry about you? Said you were fine?”

_I’ll be fine, he had said to Gil when he realized the wire was too short._

“It’s not the same,” he insisted.

“Okay,” Frank said, as if conceding the point, “has anyone else ever protected you, saved your life, maybe?”

“Yeah.”

“Were you mad at them for were doing it?”

“No. No!” A pause, and then reluctantly, “I was unconscious at the time.”

“Ah. And if you hadn’t been?”

_Would he have let Peggy risk her life for him?_

_That’s not fair. It’s not fair to make me think like that._

“How did you finally get out of your father’s house?” Frank asked.

John looked out the window some more.

“I’ve talked to Ana and Manuel,” Frank told him.

“Then what are you asking me for?”

“Do you know how much your father paid the hospital not to file a report? They got a whole new wing.”

John turned to look at him. “Pure Henry Laurens,” he said bitterly. “Money fixes everything. The hospital got a new wing and I got to go to boarding school.”

“He would have killed you eventually, you know,” Frank said quietly.

John nodded. “I know.”

_Ana, finding him unconscious, calling 911, “Juanito, mi Juanito, te ha matado!” That must have been later, though, because he could remember her saying it. He was trying to talk, to tell her he wasn’t dead. She was crying, and he felt bad that she was crying over him. She was in his hospital room when he woke up, sitting by the bed. When he woke up, she crossed herself and kissed him, and called for Manuel who was in the waiting room. They were with him every day until he left the hospital and went to the small apartment that was waiting for him. Ana’s sister Lili came to stay with him there, cooking for him and making sure he was all right. She taught him to make soup._

_His head hurt so much from the concussion that he could hardly think, and it took weeks for his vision to recover. When he went back to the hospital for follow-up visits, the doctors would tell him how lucky he was to have a complete recovery from his injuries. They talked about what a terrible fall John had suffered. He didn’t remember any fall, but he smiled and agreed with whatever they said._

_It was three months before he was discharged from medical care, and that whole time, he had no communication from his family. He missed his brothers and sisters painfully, and asked Ana about them every time he saw her. He asked if she could bring them, but she would shake her head and start to cry, so he stopped asking. He was okay. He’d be fine._

_When he was done with the medical care, Ana and Manuel sat down with him and told him that he wouldn’t be going back to the house. He was going to boarding school in New York. He had a trust fund from his grandfather that would pay for it, and then for college afterward._

_“I can’t leave the kids,” he had said._

_“No te preocupes. Cuidaremos de los niños.”_

_But he would worry. He’d worry about them every day._

_“Ve!” Ana had told him. “Ve a la escuela! Cuidate, mi Juanito, cuidate.”_

_So he did what she had told him and went away from them all. He was okay. He’d be fine._

“I never even knew what he did to me that time,” he said now to Frank.

“That time you almost died?”

“Yeah.”

“Choked you until you passed out, smashed your head into the concrete a dozen or so times, fractured your skull in a few places.”

“I don’t remember what I did that pissed him off.”

“Does it matter?”

John shook his head. “No.”

“Ana and Manuel were able to get some leverage after that. Your father knew their testimony could destroy him, and they couldn’t be bought off. They struck a deal with him. You were sent away to be safe, and they stayed to look after the younger children. If he ever laid a hand on any of them, the deal was off.”

It was like a weight he had carried for years had been lifted.

“He didn’t hit them?”

“No. He never touched them.”

Everything he had kept in control for five years broke loose. Frank pulled the car over, and John stumbled out, falling to his knees, sobbing and wailing and vomiting on the side of the road, cursing and pounding on the gravel, wanting to smash something, wanting to run until he dropped, wanting, he realized now, to hold Alex and Eliza as tight as he could and tell them that he loved them.

Frank stood silently, leaning against the fender, his eyes on the forest. Eventually, John exhausted himself and staggered to his feet. He spat the last of the sour bile out onto the gravel.

“Couple of bottles of water in the back,” Frank told him laconically.

John nodded, got one of them, and rinsed his mouth. He spat again and then drank down half of the cool water. It was good.

“Frank …” he began, reaching out.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Frank told him, taking his hand.

“You’re right about everything,” John said, “about my needing to protect everybody else, about not wanting help.”

“Yeah,” Frank agreed with a small smile.

John managed a smile too. “If I had been in Alex’s place, I would have done the same thing,” he admitted. “I would have tried to protect him.”

“I pretty much had that figured out,” Frank said. He grabbed the other water bottle from the car and took a drink. “You want to go see the kids now?”

John nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“I could call Pete,” Frank went on off-handedly, opening the driver’s side door. “He could bring Alex and Eliza to meet us there.”

John got in and buckled his seat belt, struggling to find his voice. “Yeah,” he said finally, “that would be good.”

* * * * *

After Frank and John had left, Pete had taken a look at Alex’s face and had sent a text.

“You might need a couple of stitches,” he said to Alex. After about half an hour, a tall, muscular, very dark man showed up.

“Oscar,” he said by way of introduction, sticking out his hand. “What the hell happened to you?”

“My boyfriend punched me,” Alex told him bluntly, not in the mood for small talk.

“Okay, then,” Oscar said. He opened the small case he had brought and cleaned the cut, feeling around the injured area carefully. “You’re lucky your cheekbone’s not broken. I think three or four stitches will be enough to take care of it.” He injected the stinging Novocaine, then took four neat small stitches to close the incision. “You can take a shower, but don’t soak your face for a couple of days. You want to ice your eye and the area of the cut a few times a day. Oh, and if you haven’t seen yourself in a mirror, you’ve got a broken blood vessel in your eye. The white of your eye is bright red, and it looks like hell, but it’s not that big a deal. It’ll go away in a week or so. You got somebody who can take the stitches out in a week?”

“I can,” Eliza told him. “I’ve done it before.”

Oscar nodded and headed for the door. They heard him mutter to Pete on the way out, “Lovers’ quarrels!”

 _Not a quarrel,_ thought Alex. _More like a full-blown explosion._

“I always think I’m right,” he said to Eliza, sitting next to her on the couch, holding her hand.

“Yeah, you do,” she agreed.

“I wanted to protect John,” he went on.

Eliza nodded. “I know that. Maybe John doesn’t want to be protected, though.”

“He would have done the same thing if it had been me,” Alex said.

Eliza thought about that. John and Alex had different personalities, but their characters and their values were very much alike. Both of them were protective of the people they loved.

“Yeah,” she said to Alex, “he would have.”

* * * * *

The double-wide was parked in a field on the edge of yet more swampland.

Frank sent John in first, alone, trembling, practically holding his breath. The door opened right into a small living room, and he instantly recognized the two people standing there.

“Manuel?” he said. “Ana?” He put out his arms and the woman ran to him.

Ana held John against her, stroking his head. “ _Juanito, mi Juanito,_ ” she murmured. She stepped back to look at him, her hand on his cheek. “ _Has crecido, mi Juanito. Eres un hombre.”_ She turned to Manuel. _“Mira lo alto!”_

He nodded, silent, but the tears ran down his cheeks. _“Como estas, mijo?”_ he asked.

“I’m okay,” John said. “I’m fine.”

_I’m going to say that forever, John thought. It’s part of who I am. At least now I know that sometimes I’m lying._

Frank came in the door quietly, and Manuel looked over at him. “ _Gracias,”_ he said. “Thank you for bringing him.”

Frank nodded, and opened the door again. Pete came in with Alex and Eliza, all of them wary.

John took the three steps to where they were standing and took Alex in his right arm and Eliza in his left. He buried his face against Alex’s shoulder, and pulled the two he loved tight against him.

“I love you,” he said, his voice muffled against Alex’s neck.

“ _Lo se, mi amor,”_ Alex murmured.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry”

“It’s okay.”

“Jesus, look what I did to you,” John whispered, devastated at Alex’s bruised eye and bandaged cheek.

“Pete had a medic check me out. It looks worse than it is, really.”

_I hit the man I love. I could turn into my father._

John took Alex’s face in his hands. “I swear to you,” he said, “I swear to you on my mother’s grave and on everything I believe in, never again.”

“I know,” Alex whispered.

John turned to Eliza and bent to kiss her, dripping tears as he did, and she brushed them gently off his face.

“We’re okay,” she told him. “We’ll always be okay.”

“I love you so much,” he said.

“I love you too, sweet John.”

“Never again,” he promised her.

“I know. That’s not you.”

_Eliza loves me, and she doesn’t think I’m the kind of man who hits people he claims to love. Eliza doesn’t think I’m my father. God, if you exist, this is my promise, for Alex and Eliza, and for all of us, I will not be my father._

John kissed her again, and then kissed Alex again, very gently, and then took their hands.

“Come with me?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” Alex told him, and Eliza nodded, smiling through her tears.

John turned to Ana. “ _Dónde están?”_ he asked.

 _“En el cuarto a la derecha,”_ she told him, gesturing.

John held Alex and Eliza's hands tightly as they moved forward. He tapped gently at the bedroom door, his heart pounding. He waited a minute, and then a barely audible voice said, “Come in.”

The four of them stood in center of the room, clinging to one another. The tallest was a thin, pale girl of about fourteen, and she was trying to keep her arms around the other three, two boys, about nine and ten, and a very small girl, not much bigger than Katie, with enormous eyes. They all looked terrified.

John held out his hand. “Marcy,” he said. “It’s me. It’s John. It’s going to be okay now.”

“John?” She threw her arms around him and wept her heart out. “I knew you’d come,” she said. “I knew you’d come for us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are still some wounds, physical and emotional, but the healing has begun.  
> I don't know what this chapter was like to read, but I will tell you, it was hard to write about John's past through the tears. I hope he'll be stronger for coming to terms with it.  
> Thanks for your support and encouragement. I am very grateful to all of you for comments and kudos and any acknowledgement that you appreciate this strange and troubled little AU and the people who occupy it. Lots of love to all of you.


	42. No One Shall Make Them Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The squad back at the cabin learns about what happened in Charleston. John, his siblings, Gil, Peggy, and Katie move into Andy's house. Katie makes friends. Sadie Shippen's associates are identified.

Gil put down the phone and turned to Peggy, his expression unreadable. He had been talking to Alex in rapid French that Peggy found hard to follow, especially with hearing only his half of the conversation. There had been something about children, and then a lot of questions. She looked at him expectantly, but he spoke to Angelica and Herc first.

“I think we should have some tea,” he suggested. “There is some, um, interesting news.”

“Is everybody all right?” Angelica asked.

Gil nodded slowly. “Yes.” He corrected himself. “Mostly.” He waved his hand vaguely and said, “Let me just tell it once.”

Herc made a pot of tea and poured it into mugs, pointedly handing Gil the ugly cow. Gil gave him a look. “I am only the messenger.”

“Don’t care,” Herc replied. “I knew when Alex took Eliza and John on this secret Mission that things were going to get intense.”

“Intense is a good word,” Gil agreed.

Herc had chosen a plain green mug for himself, giving Angelica the heart and Peggy the seashells, so they settled in at the table with only Gil holding the evidence of Herc’s displeasure.

“They’ll be home tomorrow,” he began, “But they will be going into the city before they come here. Actually, only Alex and Eliza will be coming here. John will be staying at Andy’s house with Desi and Burr.”

“Why?” Angelica asked.

“They went to get John’s brothers and sisters,” Gil explained, and of course that brought an onslaught of questions. It took Gil more than an hour to work his way through the story. After about twenty minutes, Herc picked up the ugly cow mug and returned it to the kitchen, bringing Gil a fresh cup of tea in a striped one.

“Because, seriously, man, if you had to listen to Alex explain all this, you deserve a medal.”

Alex had indeed explained everything to Gil, from his first conversation with TJ at Christmas through the long talk that he, Eliza, and John had had last night. John had finally opened up about his childhood and Alex was still stunned by what he had revealed. Gil did his best to stay composed throughout the narrative, but when he tried to describe the abuse John had suffered at his father’s hands, he had to stop talking for a few minutes.

“How is John even okay?” Peggy asked through tears, leaning on Gil’s shoulder. “I mean, he’s more than okay, he’s so sweet. How is he not completely broken?”

“That’s courage,” Herc said quietly. “That’s courage and strength that most of us will never see, let alone have.”

“And gratitude,” Angelica added. “He’s so grateful for every little thing he has.”

“Learning to skip stones,” Peggy smiled. “Sometimes he’s such a kid.”

“Because he never really got to be a kid,” Gil said. “I can’t …” He bent and kissed Peggy’s hair, holding her tight. _“Je peux pas m’imaginer d'un père qui maltraite son propre fils. C’est un monstre.”_

They all understood the last word.

“A monster,” Herc agreed. “A man like his father – that’s not even human. Hell, even animals take care of their young.” He shoved his chair away from the table and got up. “I’ll be back,” he added, grabbing his jacket and his gun as he went out the door.

“I need to see Katie,” Gil said.

“She’s still asleep,” Peggy told him.

“I know. I just want to look at her.”

They slipped quietly into the bedroom and stood next to Katie’s bed for a few minutes. She was sound asleep, her curls tumbled in every direction, Little Baby clutched in one hand and Terkle in the other. Gil blew her a kiss and they went back to the kitchen where Angelica was making another pot of tea.

“How could anyone …?” Peggy started.

“He must have been one sick son of a bitch,” Angelica said.

“I think sometimes we make that an excuse,” Gil said.

“What do you mean?” Peggy asked.

“We say someone is sick, when what they really are is evil. All of us have the capacity for good or evil, I think, but most of us don’t choose the evil.”

Herc had come back in just in time to hear what Gil said. He nodded in agreement. “Everything we do is a choice. Henry Laurens chose to be evil, and nearly killed his own son. John walked away from that, and now every single day, he chooses to be good.”

* * * * *

Frank had sent a guy named Luke Prior to drive all of the kids and John in an SUV that belonged to their squad. Alex and Eliza were taking the Acura and meeting them at Andy’s house. Gil and Peggy would be there too with Katie and they would also be staying, as Alex had explained to Gil on the phone.

“These kids need somebody to let them know they’re safe,” he had said. “Nobody would be better at that than you and Peggy.”

It was going to be strange, Peggy thought, after living for more than two years with her sisters and the others, to be staying in a house with four kids she had never met, as well as Desi and Burr, and soon, their baby.

“You did say you wanted to work with kids,” Gil reminded her as they drove toward the city in the Kia, Katie in her car seat behind them, shrieking with excitement at every new sight along the road.

“Do you think the kids are okay?” Peggy asked Gil.

“Alex says they’re scared, but he thinks they’ll be fine. The housekeeper and the gardener, Ana and Manuel, the ones who helped raise John, have taken good care of them.”

“I’m glad John had some people who loved him.”

“He’s with the kids now, driving back, so they can get reacquainted.”

Peggy suspected that Alex might be unrealistically optimistic, but she was looking forward to meeting John’s brothers and sisters. “Has anybody told Desi and Burr that they’re about to get new housemates?” Peggy asked.

“I hope so,” Gil said. “I don’t want to be the one to break the news.”

Fortunately, Alex and Eliza had already arrived when they got there. Desi and Burr were both seated in the living room, both with that sort of deer-in-the-headlights look that Alex’s non-stop talking sometimes induced. Annie, the midwife, was also there, as well as a young girl of about twelve.

Alex was pacing and holding forth about something, but Katie had no problem interrupting him.

“Uncle Alex!” she yelled. “We saw cows! Real cows, not book cows, real ones! With tails!” She stopped and looked at Alex’s inflamed eye and bandaged face. “Did you get a ouchy, Uncle Alex?” she asked.

“I did, but it’s getting better. A man named Oscar fixed it for me.”

“He’s not the best doctor,” Katie reminded him. “Tonton is the best doctor.”

“He is,” Alex agreed, “but I was far away, so Oscar took care of me.”

Katie was reassured and started to tell Alex all about the cows. Gil looked at his face with some concern.

“It’s okay,” Alex told him over Katie’s head. “Just bruising and a few stitches.” He turned to Peggy, still listening to the description of the cows, which apparently came in several colors, not just black and white. “Eliza’s upstairs,” he told her, pointing. “She might need …”

Peggy nodded and went up the stairs to find Eliza making beds in one of the bedrooms. She hugged her sister gratefully.

“Alex thought you might need help,” Peggy said.

“Yeah, I might,” Eliza agreed.

Peggy stepped back and looked at her. “Gil told us everything that Alex told him,” she said. “How are you?”

Eliza took a breath. “It was a rough couple of days,” she admitted. “We’re okay, but there was so much to deal with. John was just … shattered, I guess is the best way to say it.”

“I don’t even know how he could keep all that inside, not talk to anybody about it for all those years.”

“It’s what he’d learned to do as a child,” Eliza said. “Keep it all secret, hide it. If Ana and Marcy hadn’t talked to Frank, I don’t think John would ever have let it out. Frank really forced him to deal with it.”

“Wasn’t that kind of harsh?” Peggy asked. “It must have been incredibly painful for John.”

“It was,” Eliza agreed, “but Frank was right to do it. It would always have haunted John.” She spread a sheet out on the bed and began to tuck it in. “John’s the bravest person I know.”

“That’s what Herc said,” Peggy told her.

“And because he’s brave, he thought he should hold all that pain back from the rest of us and carry it himself. That’s what he’s been doing. Frank made him share it with the people who love him so we can help him carry it. Frank’s pretty amazing, actually.”

“I’ve heard that,” Peggy said. “Even Alex thinks he’s great.”

Eliza smiled. “I know. That puts him on a very short list. I hope you get to meet him someday.”

Peggy picked up a stack of pillowcases. “So how many beds do we need to make here?”

Eliza had decided that Desi and Burr would stay in the master bedroom with its own bath, where they were already settled. Peggy and Gil would get the next largest bedroom, where Katie’s toddler bed would also go. That left the other two bedrooms for the four Laurens kids.

“Are there enough beds?” Peggy asked.

“Well, we’ve improvised a bit. Desi brought a futon from her house, so one of the boys will use that, and the girls will have to share a full size bed, but that should be okay because Polly is tiny. She’s five, by the way, so maybe she and Katie could play together. Marcy is not quite fifteen, Harry is eleven, and James is nine.”

“Katie’s going to be thrilled to pieces that there are other kids here,” Peggy told her. “She’s downstairs now telling Alex all about the cows we saw on the way. When are John and the kids supposed to get here, by the way?”

“I’m not sure,” Eliza said. “They were going to take it slowly, take long breaks, give them all time to talk. Marcy’s the only one who really remembers John well, and honestly, they were all scared. Ana and Manuel were able to keep their father from beating them, but they couldn’t stop him from talking.” She bit her lip and looked away for a minute. “He said terrible things about John, and I think it will take a while before the younger ones trust him. Luckily, Marcy is totally devoted to John, and that will help.” Her eyes filled up. “Honest to God, Peg, you’ll just want to hug those kids and give them a decent meal and let them know that it’s okay to laugh. You and Gil will be the best people in the world to take care of them because you love each other and Katie so much that they’ll be able to see what love really is.”

Peggy hugged her tight. “Well, there’s no shortage of love around here. We’re lucky, aren’t we?”

They went downstairs to find Alex making coffee, and Annie about to leave. Gil introduced her to Peggy and explained that the girl with her was Becky, the youngest of the Jenkins kids, who was one of the neighborhood runners. Burr and Desi were getting acquainted with all of the runners in the area, so communication would be easy when it was time for the baby. This morning, Burr had gone to the Jenkins home to see if there was someone in the area who could shop for them, since he had “vanished” himself from work and couldn’t safely go out in public. Becky had located a woman with some extra ration cards who was able to take Burr’s cash and buy plenty of milk, potatoes, and oatmeal for the household. Having enough food on hand for nine or ten people was going to be a challenge, but Alex, of course, had worked it out in advance, and John would be supplying Peggy and Gil with additional ration cards.

Peggy and Eliza helped themselves to coffee and listened to what Alex was telling Gil. “Because as far as anybody in Charleston knows, the Laurens kids have just disappeared. With their father dead, somebody’s going to start an investigation into what happened to them. Ana and Manuel have a cover story that they’re going to spread, about the kids’ Aunt Lydia coming to pick them up. The real Lydia died a few years ago, but she lived in Colorado, and not many people in Charleston knew her. By the time the Greaters get done chasing that trail, we may well have a new government, and we won’t have to worry about it. Henry Laurens disinherited John long ago, of course, and left all his money to the other four kids. It’s a few million, we think. After things get straightened out, we’ll need to find a good lawyer to represent the kids, but for now, we’ll just make sure they’re fed, clothed, and housed.”

Peggy nodded. She was getting overwhelmed with information. Gil smiled at her. “We’re going to have dinner as soon as John and the kids get here,” he said.

“Who’s cooking?” Peggy asked.

“Burr,” Gil told her. “He says he’s pretty good.”

“We’re going to have to work all that stuff out, aren’t we?”

Gil nodded. “We will. _Ne t’inquiète pas.”_

“Okay,” she said, smiling back at him. “How about if you and Alex or Burr or somebody get Katie’s bed set up in our room? It’s the one on the left of the bathroom as you go up the stairs. Sort of cream-colored walls.”

Gil grabbed Alex and they unloaded the car and efficiently moved Katie’s bed and everything else into the bedroom. Peggy and Eliza sat and talked with Desi and Burr, who were as usual up for any challenges that might come along.

“It’s going to be kind of fun to have a houseful of kids,” Desi said. “We won’t be bored, for sure.”

“I’m looking forward to helping with the baby, too,” Peggy told her. “I was sixteen when Katie was born, and Angelica and Eliza were already in college, so I helped my mom with her a lot.”

“Thank you,” Desi said with a smile. “I’m an only child and Aaron’s only got one older sister, so we haven’t been around kids a lot. I’m really glad you’re going to be here.”

“Her name’s going to be Teddie, right? Short for Theodosia?”

Desi nodded.

“Have you picked out a middle name?”

“Isn’t Theodosia enough?” Burr asked with his rare grin.

“I don’t have a middle name myself,” Peggy said, “and I always felt deprived.”

“Is that why you married a man with, like, ten names?” Eliza teased.

“Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette,” Peggy recited, laughing. “You can’t count the last three words because they’re the title, and duMotier is the last name, so, really, only six names.”

“Oh, my goodness!” Desi exclaimed. “That makes Theodosia sound like Jane Doe!”

Gil had been in the kitchen with Alex, but he joined the others in the living room at that point. “I heard all the names,” he said, smiling. “Am I in trouble?”

“Your wife was just trying to persuade us that our daughter should have a middle name,” Burr told him.

“Well, I have extras,” Gil admitted, “if she’d like one of mine.”

“Wasn’t there a Marie in there somewhere?” Desi asked.

Gil nodded. “It’s used for boys as well as girls in France, although it’s a little old-fashioned now.”

“Theodosia Marie actually sounds nice,” Desi said thoughtfully. She looked at Burr.

“Let’s take it under consideration,” he said. “Now, I think I’d better go start dinner. The kids should be arriving soon, and I’m not used to cooking for a dozen people.”

Burr’s stew was bubbling on the stove by the time the SUV from Charleston pulled into the driveway. John jumped out first and stuck his head in the door, yelling, “We’re here!” before he started unloading bags, boxes, and kids, with the help of Luke Prior. The kids stayed together in a little cluster, not moving until somebody told them to. Peggy’s heart went out to them as she watched them through the window, all of them serious and hesitant.

“They’ll be okay,” Alex said behind her, and she turned to look at him. “You and Gil will be the best thing in the world for them.”

“I hope so,” she said softly.

John thanked Luke for driving them and said goodbye, sending his best wishes to Frank and the others in Charleston. Luke left, and then John finally brought the kids in and introduced them to everyone. It would have been bewildering for any child to suddenly meet a large group of strangers that they were going to live with. For the Laurens kids, who had learned all their lives to watch every word and action for fear of upsetting their father, it was overwhelming. Little Polly clung tightly to Marcy, a very bedraggled blue plush rabbit in her other hand. The boys nervously avoided eye contact, staring at the floor. Only Marcy tried to smile at them all, but her eyes were scared.

John knelt down in front of them, pulled Polly onto his knee and said, “Listen, guys, it’s okay. These are my best friends, my very best friends. They love me, so they’re going to love you too.”

He turned around and signaled to Katie, who was holding Gil’s hand and watching wide-eyed. “Hey, Katie-boo,” he said, holding out his hand. “C’mere. These are my brothers and sisters.”

Katie took his hand and smiled. “All of them?” she asked.

“Yeah,” John said. “This is Polly, who’s five. She’s a little scared because she doesn’t know anybody here. Polly, this is Katie.”

“I’m three and a half,” Katie told her. “You got a bunny?”

Polly nodded.

“I got a terkle, but he’s little. And once I got a real live terkle with Uncle John but she had to go back to see her family. You want to see my little terkle that Uncle Herc made me?”

Polly nodded again.

“What’s your bunny’s name?” Katie asked, as she took Polly’s hand and led her toward the stairs.

“Belle,” Polly whispered.

“She’s blue,” Katie commented.

Polly nodded again, then hung back for a moment. “Can Marcy come?” she asked.

“Sure,” Katie said. She turned around and addressed the others. “You can all come,” she told them. “You can see Terkle and Little Baby and my letters book.”

The other kids looked to John for permission, and when he said, “Yeah, go!” they followed, not quite sure what to make of a small child who was so confident and relaxed around all these adults. As they trooped upstairs, Peggy heard Katie say, “My favorite letter is K. What’s yours?”

Peggy hid her face against Gil’s shoulder, and he kissed the top of her head.

“Our Katie is a pretty amazing kid,” he said.

Peggy nodded and sniffed, looking around for a tissue.

Eliza handed her one, and she realized that everyone else was teary-eyed too.

“Well,” John said, “that might be easier than I thought.”

“They’ll need a little time,” Eliza told him gently.

“I know,” John said. He reached out for Peggy and Gil. “I know you guys were blind-sided by this. Thank you for just being willing to do it.”

Peggy took his face in her hands. “John, they’re your family, so they’re our family.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, “but ...”

“Am I supposed to thank you now for being ‘willing’ to look after Katie?” Gil asked. “Have you ever treated her like she wasn’t yours too?”

John shrugged, embarrassed.

“Enough, then,” Gil said. “Family’s family. We all take care of each other.”

“You know,” Alex broke in, “we should stop this love fest long enough to eat.”

“Good idea,” Burr agreed. “The stew is ready.”

“So who’s going to go tell Katie that her grand tour has to be postponed for now?” Alex asked.

“That’ll be me,” John volunteered, and went upstairs.

Gil and Alex dragged kitchen chairs into the dining room, where the extra table leaves they found in the basement had extended the table to fit everybody. Burr was dishing up the stew when they heard squealing and giggling from upstairs. John ran down the steps laughing, Katie over one shoulder and Polly over the other, both of them giggling, with Harry and James right behind them and Marcy bringing up the rear. They all reached the table out of breath and took seats with Polly asking to sit between Marcy and Katie. By the time they finished the meal, all of the Laurens kids had spoken at least a few words. Eliza had engaged Marcy in conversation and discovered that she liked to draw, just like John. Alex had talked to James about chess, and Burr had found out that Harry really didn’t like baseball, but thought it would be fun to learn to cook. Everybody talked at once, as usual, sometimes in two or three languages, and the kids had the chance to talk or not, whatever they were comfortable with, without having too much attention drawn to themselves. John pointed out with pride that, like him, they had all spoken Spanish all their lives, and he challenged the French speakers to some sort of future Scrabble tournament. Gil accepted the challenge, and the kids began to relax, realizing dimly that it was going to be okay to talk and laugh here whenever they felt like it.

After dinner, they sorted out a shower schedule with Eliza’s help and finally got all the kids in bed, even Marcy. They’d had an exhausting few days, and it didn’t take them long to go to sleep. Once he was sure the kids were sleeping, John called all the adults into the living room. He took a sketchbook out of the desk and flipped through a few pages, touching up whatever was on the paper and talking to the others as he worked.

“So, listen,” he said, not looking up, “when we were coming here, Luke missed the exit and we ended up getting off in Center City and then coming back south. So guess who I saw right on Chestnut Street, sitting in one of those snooty little French outdoor cafés?” He stopped drawing long enough to look up and grin at Gil, who gave him the expected raised eyebrow.

“Okay, who?” Alex asked impatiently.

“Our old friend Sadie fucking Shippen,” John responded, “and guess who was with her?”

“Jay Reynolds, by any chance?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, and his girlfriend, the one who was with them that night we saw them.”

“Oh, yeah, we forgot to tell you, Alex,” Peggy said. “Liz got some info on her because she’s been arrested with Jay Reynolds a few times. Only now I can’t remember her name because there were a bunch of aliases. I think it was Myra something.”

“Okay, good, I’ll get it from Liz tomorrow,” Alex said approvingly.

“And there was another guy too,” John went on, “who certainly seems to be Sadie’s new boyfriend, because they were all over each other. Anyway, I asked Luke to drive around the block a few times so I could get a good look at them all.”

“You just drove around Center City a few times without thinking they might notice you?” Eliza asked.

“They wouldn’t know me with this hair,” John told her, gesturing to his dark braids. “Anyway, Luke was driving, and I did some sketches. Last time I tried to draw Reynolds and his girlfriend, I didn’t do a very good job because I hadn’t paid close enough attention. This time I did. I’m just finishing up the drawings here, and maybe we can be sure we’ve got the right names. I mean, I don’t know for sure that they’re up to anything, but I wouldn’t trust that Shippen girl as far as I could throw her.”

“Her boyfriend wasn’t Sam Seabury, was it?” Alex asked.

“Nah, him I’d know. She seems to have moved up to older and richer.” He erased something, added a few more details, and then flipped back to the first sketch in the book. “Okay, Desi,” he said, “I know you were pretty sure the other drawing was Jay Reynolds, but I want you to take a look at this one to be sure.” He turned it so they could all see it.

“God, you are good,” Alex told him.

“Yeah,” John agreed.

“I don’t know if that’s Jay Reynolds,” Gil said, “but that is definitely the guy who was with Sadie when we were blowing things up.”

“Oh, that’s Jay Reynolds, all right,” Desi confirmed. “There’s no doubt in my mind.”

“Okay, good,” John went on, flipping to the next drawing. “So this one is the mystery man. We haven’t seen him before, at least I haven’t, but he and Sadie definitely seem to be a thing, and I think we should keep an eye on any of her friends.”

He held it up, and Desi gasped. “Oh, my God, that’s Jimmy Prevost!”

Burr nodded slowly, his jaw set. “So Sadie Shippen caught him on the rebound,”

“She’s welcome to him,” Desi said, “but he’s a bad guy, and he’s vindictive. He’d love to know where I am.”

“Then he’s definitely going on our watch list,” Alex promised. “Liz and I will get whatever information we can about where he’s living and what he’s doing. We’ll do our best to keep an eye on him.”

Desi nodded gratefully, and John turned to the last sketch. “This is Jay Reynolds’s girlfriend, I think,” he said. “They seemed to be together, although they weren’t as lovey-dovey as Sadie and her new boyfriend. She’s definitely the same girl who was with Sadie and Reynolds that night. I got a better look at her this time, so maybe you can identify her.”

He held the sketchbook up to Desi and Burr, but they both shook their heads. “I don’t think I’ve seen her,” Desi said. “Jay Reynolds never had a girl with him when he was in the neighborhood.”

Alex leaned over to get a better look. “Let me see,” he said, and John turned the sketchbook so that he could see it.

Alex took a breath and sat back in his chair. “I know who it is,” he said, his voice grim. “It’s not Myra, it’s Maria. Maria Lewis.”

John snapped to attention and looked intently at his own drawing. “This is Maria Lewis?” he asked Alex.

“Yeah.”

John stared at the picture. “Oh, shit,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How does Alex know Maria Lewis, and what does her name mean to John?  
> How are the new living arrangements going to affect everyone?  
> The stage is gradually being set for Dolphin, with everyone eventually moving into the city where the action will be.
> 
> I'm grateful for every one of you who is still following this story, and I appreciate so much the comments and kudos. Mille fois merci! À très bientôt!


	43. Don’t Say No

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex explains how he knows Maria Lewis. Peggy and Gil spend their first night in their new room. The Laurens kids start getting to know the squad. Burr and Desi have something to tell Alex, and something else to show him.

“Okay, so tell us,” Eliza said. “Who’s Maria Lewis?”

Alex and John looked at each other for a few minutes, and then John threw his hands up in the air. “Your story, babe,” he said. “I was just a bystander.”

Burr shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Look, if you want us to leave …”

“Nah,” Alex told him with a rueful laugh. “You guys are part of the family now, so everybody might as well hear it.” He thought for a few minutes while everyone stared at him expectantly.

The silence stretched out.

“If you’d rather not …” Eliza said.

“No, it’s okay, and it’s not that big a deal, really.”

John laughed at that, and Alex glared at him. “Stop.”

“It was kind of a big deal at the time,” John told him.

“Yeah, but what were we? Eighteen?”

“I was eighteen,” John said. “I think you were still seventeen.”

“Babies,” Gil murmured with a look at Peggy, who blushed.

“So okay, our freshman year, you know, John and I got together,” Alex began.

“Fell in love,” John amended, smiling at him.

“I thought you said it was my story,” Alex said, but he was smiling too.

“It’s a good thing Angelica’s not here,” Eliza commented. “She be making gagging noises.”

“True to both of those things,” Alex agreed. “So anyway, there we were, me and John, young and in love, and just having a wonderful time …”

“Mostly,” John reminded him.

“Yeah, and then there was a time when things weren’t going so well.”

“One of those ‘bumps’ you were talking about the other day?” Eliza asked John.

John considered. “Yeah, you could say it was a bump. Like a really epic bump.”

“What happened?” Peggy asked.

“We had a stupid fight,” Alex said, “a really stupid fight. I mean, it happens, right, especially when you’re young?”

“Not necessarily,” Gil told him.

“Fine,” Alex responded irritably, “you and Peggy aren’t normal. John and I, being normal, had a stupid fight because I forgot about a date.”

“Just forgot?” Desi asked, by now interested in the story.

“I was working on a paper,” Alex offered in his defense, “and I had been up all night …”

“Because every paper Alex ever did had to be the absolutely best fucking paper of all time,” John added.

“So when John came to pick me up,” Alex went on, “I wasn’t there. I was still at the library.”

“Imagine me,” John said, “in my nice clothes, all set to go out to dinner, going to his dorm room to find him, he’s not there, doesn’t answer my texts … I got worried.”

“Understandably,” Burr commented.

“Well, not really, if you know Alex,” John told him, “but that was the thing, I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did, so when I finally tracked him down in the library, I was furious.”

“And loud,” Alex recalled.

“And I said fuck a lot,” John admitted, “which didn’t go down well in the library.”

“I should probably mention here that I also worked in the library,” Alex added. “It got ugly, and it was in a public place, my place of employment, but I was also embarrassed because it was totally my fault.”

“Thank you,” John said. “About fucking time.”

“I didn’t want to admit I was wrong.”

 _“Quelle surprise!”_ Gil muttered.

“Long story short, we broke up,” Alex finished.

“Really?” Peggy asked. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Neither did I,” John said. “So I just went back to my apartment and punched the wall a few times.”

“And I drank a couple of gallons of coffee and finished the paper that night.” Alex shook his head. “The only C I ever got.”

Eliza rolled her eyes. “That was really hard for you.”

“Yeah, but I took the easy way out. I blamed John. I sent him a text telling him it was all his fault.”

The story had been mostly funny up to this point, but Alex and John were both looking more serious now.

“But you knew that wasn't true,” Gil said to Alex.

“Of course I did, but I told him it was anyway. It took me a while to admit the truth. In the meantime, well, that’s where Maria Lewis came in.” Alex shifted position and looked over at John. “You want me to keep going?” he asked him.

“Yeah,” John told him and smiled. “It’s all ancient history now anyway.”

“Okay,” Alex said, “I met Maria at a party one night. She was … um … interested in me.”

“It’s too bad Herc’s not here,” John commented. “He tried to tell Alex rebounds were a bad idea.”

“I knew better than everybody else, of course,” Alex said, “so I didn’t listen to Herc or anybody else. I had to prove I was over John, so I started seeing Maria.”

“Two points here,” John said. “First, he totally was not over me. Second, ‘seeing’ is a euphemism for ‘fucking’.”

“Yes to both,” Alex agreed. “It was killing me to be apart from John, and I didn’t even like Maria Lewis, but she made herself extremely available.”

“How long did this go on?” Peggy asked.

Alex shrugged. “A couple of months, maybe? Long enough for me to realize what an idiot I was being and go sit on the hall floor outside John’s apartment until he would talk to me.” he looked up at John and smiled. “He held out for three days.”

“I would have held out longer, but Herc told me to give you a chance,” John said, smiling back, “so I did.”

“So happy ending, right?” Desi asked.

“Yeah,” Alex said, a little hesitantly.

“So then, Maria Lewis is just somebody you dated – I know, it’s a euphemism – for a couple of months?” Burr asked, puzzled. “So no big deal?”

“Not exactly,” Alex told him. “There was a bit of a sequel.”

“Yeah, a couple of days after Alex told her that we were getting back together,” John explained, “I got a message on Instagram. It was a picture file, a lot of pictures actually. There was a nasty little note with them, telling me how Alex wasn’t gay like I thought, and that eventually he’d leave me for a woman. I guess she thought I’d be upset, but I’d known Alex was bi from the beginning, and anyway, he’d already told me about her. I wasn’t upset, but I was kind of shocked.”

“Why?” Desi asked.

“Well, the pictures were … look, I’m really an open-minded person, but they were really graphic.”

“Maria had apparently recorded all of our activities in great detail,” Alex told them. “Lots of pictures, a few videos.”

“Oh, yikes,” Peggy said. “How did she even do that?”

“Oh, you sweet innocent,” Alex said to her, “you’d be surprised where people put cameras.”

“Ew!” Peggy exclaimed, blushing and hiding her face on Gil’s shoulder.

“But you still didn’t recognize her when you saw her the other day?” Desi asked.

“No,” John said, and paused for a minute. “Let’s just say that all the video stuff was in very tight focus and didn’t include her face.”

“Got it,” Desi said, blushing almost as much as Peggy had.

Gil raised an eyebrow at John. “You knew it was Alex, though, didn't you?”

“Fuck, yeah,” John said with a grin.

* * * * *

“First night in our new room,” Gil said, looking around. “What do you think?”

“It’s bigger than the one in the cabin,” Peggy responded. There was plenty of room here for their bed, Katie’s toddler bed, and a chest of drawers. There was even a decent size closet. “We don’t have enough clothes for all this space.”

Gil pulled her down on the bed next to him. “When we get our own place, you can buy all the clothes you want.”

She leaned back a bit and looked up at him. “I hope you’re not going to be disappointed if I don’t want a lot of stuff,” she said.

“But it will be okay if I buy you things, right?” he asked, smiling. “At least the diamond earrings we talked about.”

“I do like jewelry,” Peggy agreed.

“Oh, that’s a relief,” he said. “Please let me buy you every pretty thing I can. Jewelry, dresses, everything you want. I like giving presents.”

“Okay.”

“Promise? Promise you won’t tell me I shouldn’t have?”

“Promise,” she said, her eyes bright as she looked up at him in the dim light. “Just know that I have everything I need now.”

“I know, _chérie,”_ he said. “So do I, and I am grateful for it. Someday, though, I want to give you presents because I love you, and because you have made me so happy.” He put his hand in her hair to hold her head, and bent to kiss her, taking his time, starting slowly and softly, then very gently parting her lips with his tongue. She sighed and opened her mouth to him, and his tongue slipped in, sliding inside her lip, circling, exploring. She met him and he took her tongue in, running his teeth over it, sucking her bottom lip a little. He slid his other hand under her knees, not breaking the kiss, and laid her down next to him.

 _“Ma belle,”_ he murmured against her mouth, _“ma chérie, mon coeur.”_ His fingers outlined her face, her forehead, her cheek, and then her throat, till he came to the neck of her tee shirt.

“Clothes in bed are so pointless,” he told her for at least the hundredth time, and helped her get rid of them, then threw his own on the floor as well.

She shivered, and he swept a blanket up over them, laughing. “I promise I’ll keep you warm.”

“You always have,” she told him, leaning into him, and he wrapped his arms around her. “You’ve always made everything so easy,” she murmured, thinking out loud, as he ran his hands over her and leaned down to kiss her breasts.

“Easy?” he asked, amused.

“Mm.” It was a little hard to talk, as he took her nipple in his mouth and flicked it with his tongue.

“Tell me,” he whispered, not stopping.

“I was afraid I wouldn’t be …mm …” she arched toward him as he sucked.

“Wouldn’t be what, _chérie?”_ he gave her a chance to answer.

“Wouldn’t be any good at this.”

“At this?” he asked, his eyebrow up. _“Oh, chérie, qu’est-ce que tu me racontes?”_ His hand went between her legs, circling and caressing. “At this? Oh, you are so very, very good at this.”

“You had to show me,” she reminded him pressing her hips toward his hand.

“The greatest pleasure of my life,” he said, one finger stroking exactly where she wanted it to. “Or maybe not, maybe now is the greatest pleasure of my life, and tomorrow will be even better. Every time, I say, nothing could be better than this, and every time it is better.”

She threw her head back and lifted herself toward him, opened herself to him. “For me too,” she murmured. “Every time.”

He could still arouse her with a look, a lifted eyebrow, a smile. They could be sitting in a room with a dozen others, and she would see him looking at her and know exactly what he was thinking about. She would feel herself blush, and Angelica would tease her, but Angelica didn’t know that she would also feel the wetness starting, feel her nipples harden, and that nothing would satisfy her until she and Gil were alone.

Sometimes he would tell her. “When you leaned forward and your hair fell over your shoulder, I wanted to tangle my fingers in it, I wanted to kiss you and touch you, I wanted you in my hands, under me.”

She felt the same way – a movement, a look, the smell of his skin, and it was all she could do to contain herself. “Is it always like this?” she had asked him.

“No,” he said, “For me, it has never been like this. I want you all the time, and when I have you, I want you more. When you show me that you want me too, it is – _tu m’éblouis, tu me ravies._ I hold you, and I have the entire world in my hands.”

 _“Ma chérie, ma belle,_ from the moment I saw you, I knew how much I needed you,” he said now. “I needed you then, and I need you even more now. We build our own world here. Do you understand what I mean? This is ours. No one else has this.”

She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him toward her, and he made an inarticulate noise deep in his throat. There were nights when they made love at a leisurely pace, slowly and tenderly; there were nights when he wanted her to take control, when she straddled him and set the pace, and then there were nights like this, when they were so hungry for each other that neither of them had any patience.

She knew she was dripping wet, and it would be so easy for him to slide in. She felt like she could never get enough of him. She bent her knees and pulled her legs back, positioning her hips so he could push in all the way, deep inside her. She saw him close his eyes for a moment, take a breath, deal with the despised condom, and then she felt him filling her, spreading her, and she still wanted more of him.

“Please more,” she whispered. “Please go further.”

He took her at her word and thrust in as deep as he could go until she felt like she was splitting apart, and it was the best thing she had ever felt. He pulled slowly back and thrust forward again and then again, each time harder, and each time, she tightened around him. He moved one hand to get his thumb on her. She was so wet that everything was slick and slippery, and his thumb slid in fast circles as he went deeper and harder and she got tighter and tighter until they were both almost sobbing for release. It came suddenly, crashing over both of them at once, and Peggy found herself shaking, tears on her face, as Gil shuddered against her.

After a few minutes, he kissed her face. _“Tu pleures?”_ he asked, surprised and concerned.

 _“De joie,”_ she told him. “I love you. _Je t’aime.”_

 _“Je t’aime, ma chérie._ My lovely girl.” He pulled her tight and kissed her neck. “Please don’t put clothes on,” he whispered. “I love the way you feel. Are you warm enough now?”

“Oh, yes,” she told him, kissing his neck.

 _“Chérie,”_ he said, _“je m’inquiète un peu – je t’ai fait mal?”_

“Oh, no,” she told him. “Oh, God, no. It was like flying.”

She knew he was smiling. _“Quand même,_ this flying, it may leave you a little sore in the morning.”

“I don’t care,” she told him. “Let’s do it again soon.”

* * * * *

“So eleven people for breakfast?” Burr asked, measuring oatmeal.

“Twelve,” Eliza told him, “although Katie and Polly together probably add up to one. You’ve been landed with quite a crowd.”

“It’s fine,” Burr said. “We’re lucky to have a place to stay and people we can trust, especially with Jimmy Prevost back in town. It’s good to feel safe.”

Eliza smiled. “Well, we hope everyone will be able to feel safe soon. Things will change when we have free elections.”

Burr nodded. “I look forward to it.”

John came in, his hair unbraided and damp from his shower. He ran his fingers through his curls. “Do I look more like myself?” he asked.

“Definitely,” Eliza told him. “I’ll be glad when it’s back to your natural color, though.”

“Me too,” John agreed. “Are the kids up yet?”

“I haven’t heard them.”

“I’ll go check,” he said, and went upstairs, passing Peggy and Gil on the way.

“Katie’s still asleep,” Peggy said to Eliza. “It’s weird that she’s upstairs and I won’t just hear her in the next room. Something else to get used to.”

“Any coffee?” Gil asked.

“Not yet, but feel free to make it,” Burr told him, and Gil got the coffee started.

Alex wandered in, sniffing the brewing coffee, and got a mug out of the cupboard to wait.

“Are you going to let your hair grow back in?” Peggy asked him. “It’s nice to see John’s curls back, but you still look strange.”

“Gee, thanks,” Alex responded.

“Well, you do. I’ve never known you with short hair.”

“It was short when I met him,” Eliza told her sister, “but not this short, and it was still dark. The highlights are just a little weird.”

“But I look friendlier, right? Not as dangerous?”

Eliza and Peggy both nodded. “I have to say, though,” Eliza said thoughtfully, “dangerous Alex was sexier.”

“Well, then, that settles the question of what I’m doing with my hair,” Alex declared, pouring himself some of the coffee that had just finished brewing. “I’m growing it out again.”

“You need to take the long view on that, _mon frère,”_ Gil told him. “After the insurrection, don’t you want to work in government, do some policy writing maybe?”

“Yeah,” Alex nodded.

“You don’t think a friendly, trustworthy appearance might be more appropriate?”

“Damn, you might be right,” Alex said. “I might actually have to pay attention to my hair and clothes and that sort of thing.”

“Maybe a compromise?” Eliza suggested. “Back to your natural color, a little longer?”

“Maybe,” Alex agreed, sipping his coffee. “It makes me think about all the things we haven’t had to pay attention to, though. Life will be different.”

“I will be quite happy not to carry a gun everywhere,” Gil said, “and I would like to take my wife out to dinner.”

Peggy smiled. “Then we could see if I can still walk in heels.”

“Oh, my gosh, heels!” Eliza laughed. “I’ll probably break an ankle.”

Burr watched them silently, surprised by the casual way they talked about guns and insurrection. He realized that for them and others in the Movement, this was the life they had lived for years, living in hiding, working to overthrow King and his corrupt government to bring back free elections and a government that truly represented the people. He and Desi had been discussing the Movement and what they owed to it. They would have to talk to Alex soon.

John came back into the kitchen, looking upset. “The kids …” he began, and then stopped, biting his lip.

“What’s the matter?” Eliza asked, her hand on his arm.

“They’re awake and they’re hungry,” he said angrily, “but they didn’t know if it was okay to come downstairs. These kids think they need permission to go from one room to another.”

Eliza hugged him. “They need time, John.”

“I know.”

“Are they coming down?” Alex asked.

“Yeah,” John said, “but Katie just got up and they wanted to wait for her.” He smiled. “When I left, she was showing them her Disney princess underwear.”

“Oh, God,” Gil said, wincing, “there might be some things we haven’t talked to her about.”

“The underwear in her dresser, you sick bastard,” John told him, laughing out loud, “not the underwear she was wearing.”

Even Peggy had to laugh, and after a shocked moment, Gil joined in, shaking his head. “I can see that raising children presents challenges,” he said.

Peggy stood on tiptoe so she could whisper to him. “You promised me six. Don’t go back on it now.”

He laughed again, swooped her up, and swung her around. The Laurens children and Katie walked in on Gil swinging Peggy in circles, everybody laughing, and Alex telling them they were crazy.

Katie took in the scene, then turned to the other kids and explained, “Tonton loves Tatie.”

The other four stared wide-eyed, not sure how to react. John picked up Polly and put an arm around Marcy. “Gil and Peggy are crazy,” he said casually, “but we love them. After breakfast, I’ll tell you about how they saved my life.”

“They did? Really?” Harry asked.

“Really,” John said. “I’ll tell you what happened.”

They ate breakfast without incident, the Laurens kids still reticent, but not as nervous as the day before. Peggy showed them how to help clear the table. “We all help each other,” she told them, not making a big deal of it, but letting them see that everybody contributed. Even Katie knew to take her dish and cup to the kitchen.

There was a dishwasher in the house, but since dishwasher detergent was now impossible to get, they did the dishes by hand, taking turns. The two older kids dried, and John put everything away. “Once you know where everything goes,” he said, “you can do this on your own.”

Marcy nodded seriously. “We can help,” she said. “I bet there’s a lot we can do.”

It had been decided that they would spend the morning exploring the house for books, games, or any other items that they might be able to use. Nobody had had a chance to search the attic yet, so they were going to start there, with John, Peggy and Gil helping and/or supervising. Alex and Eliza were getting ready to return to the cabin for a while so that Alex and Tony could coordinate their preparations for Dolphin. Before they could get started, though, Burr pulled Alex aside.

“Desi and I would like to talk to you,” he said.

Alex agreed readily, and joined them in the living room. They were seated on the couch, Desi in that stage of pregnancy when there is no comfortable position to be found. She was sideways, her back against the arm of the couch, her feet in Burr’s lap.

“How much longer?” Alex asked her.

“Three weeks,” she said irritably. “And don’t you dare say ‘Really?’”

“Wouldn’t think of it,” Alex assured her. He turned to Burr. “Everything okay?”

Burr nodded. “Yeah, things are good, really.” Then he smiled. “Well, as good as they can be with an insurrection coming and my pregnant lady here getting a little cranky, and not having any income, but aside from that …”

“It’s real life, isn’t it?” Alex asked.

“It is, indeed,” Burr agreed, “and I believe that our lives and our daughter’s life are going to be better because of you, because of the Movement and everything you’re doing.”

“I believe that too,” Alex told him. “The next couple of months are going to be hard, maybe scary, but it will be worth it.”

“Desi and I have been talking a lot about what we owe all of you …”

Alex waved his hand to brush him off, but Burr spoke up firmly. “No, hear me out. I know you say we helped you, getting you shipping information and intercepting bypass shipments, but we only participated in that for a few months. You and John and the others have been at this for years. The Schuyler girls lost their parents. You’ve all been on the front lines, and we’ve come in at the very end. What’s that saying about being born on third base and then thinking you’ve hit a home run? That’s what it feels like.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Alex said. “Nobody’s keeping track of that sort of thing. New people are joining the Movement every day, and we’re grateful to have them.”

“Sunshine patriots?” Burr asked, his eyebrow up.

Alex smiled. “Let’s say late deciders. I’m just glad for the support.”

“We want to do more than just cheer on the sidelines,” Desi declared. “We have more at stake than anyone else here. The Movement is providing our child with a future. We want to fight.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex said, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“We want to fight,” Burr repeated. “We want to be out there with you when the insurrection comes, not locked up here with the children.”

“Wait a minute, you haven’t trained, you haven’t – and anyway, what about your baby?”

“She’s who we’d be fighting for,” Desi told him, “That’s the whole point.”

“Look,” Burr went on, “we know you have non-combatants. We know Peggy will be here with the children, and that other guy, Ben will be treating the injured. But Gil does medical care, and he’ll be fighting. The only reason you don’t think we should fight is because we’ll have a child. How many other parents will be out fighting in the streets in the insurrection?”

Alex knew for a fact that Ned Randolph’s wife was pregnant and that Ethan had three young kids at home. Burr was right that thousands of parents would be participating in the insurrection.

“I can’t tell you no,” he said to Burr, “but we won’t have time to train you.”

“Can you arm us?” Burr asked flatly.

“Probably,” Alex replied. “How good a shot are you?”

“Sharpshooter medal, Army reserve,” Burr said a little defiantly.

“No shit.” Alex looked at Desi. “You’re only going to be a few weeks past giving birth. You deserve more maternity leave than that.”

She smiled at him. “You’re right, I do, but our daughter deserves a life in a free society. Who’s to say how much of a difference one more person, two more people can make?” She held her hand out to him. “Alex, you should know that we’re going to do this whether you approve or not. We’d like to be with the squad that we already know and respect if that’s possible.”

Alex took her hand. “I’ll tell you that I’ve got reservations, especially about you, Desi, and I’m not going to hold you to anything you’re saying now. But I’d also like to say that I’m proud to know you. Welcome to the squad.”

“One more thing,” Burr said. He took a small box out from behind the couch. “This was part of the last bypass shipment I snagged.” He opened it and showed Alex the contents. Their eyes met over the box. “Was I right?” Burr asked.

Alex nodded, unable to speak.

“Is it okay if we hold it a little longer? I’d like to wait until after Teddie is born, and have her be part of it.”

Alex nodded again. “Yeah,” he said softly, “that would be good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Alex has a bit of history with Maria Lewis. Does she hold a grudge? Does he? How about John?  
> The Laurens kids are settling in, with Katie's help.  
> What do you think of Desi and Burr's determination to fight in the insurrection? Are they being brave or foolish -- or maybe both?  
> And what the heck is in that box?  
> I love telling this story and I love that so many of you keep reading it. You give me such encouragement. I'm grateful for your comments and all the kudos and for the fact that you care about what happens to these people. Thank you for everything, and please keep telling me what you think. <3


	44. Chance to Socially Advance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Tony plan the move. Backstory on Jay and Maria. The Laurens kids settle in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to get this done. There are so many threads going that I'm having trouble keeping them untangled.

Alex needed to confer with Tony, so he decided to take Eliza, Angelica, and Herc with him. With his squad now divided into two locations, he was feeling a bit off balance. It would be easier to keep everybody in the loop if they had to repeat information as little as possible.

Tony had coffee and was ready with the latest updates he had gotten while Alex was away.

“Everything is go for the first week of May,” he told Alex now. “Unless there is some major unexpected problem, that’s when Dolphin will happen. What are things looking like in the city?”

“Okay, I think,” Alex said. “We’ve got the Laurens kids at Andy’s house, and that’s where we’ll also set up our medical treatment center.” He turned to Ben. “How are we on supplies?”

“Good,” Ben responded. “Fine on Novocain and antibiotics, suture kits, bandages, that sort of thing. I’m hoping, though, that once we actually get into Dolphin some of the local hospitals will admit the wounded. We’re not going to be able to do even basic surgery because of the number of people likely to need treatment. Is there any way to get any information on what the climate is like in the hospitals?”

“I don’t know,” Alex told him. “Let me see if Gil can check that for us. However that turns out, I think you should move there in about two weeks or so, make sure everything is set up. That way, if you find you need anything, we’ve got time to take care of it.”

“Okay,” Ben agreed. “Gil’s there now, right?”

Alex nodded. “Yeah, he and Peggy are there with Katie, and I know he’s got his medical kit with him, but there’s not much in that. They’re helping with the Laurens kids, since Desi’s baby is due in a few weeks and she and Burr are not going to be able to look after four more kids. John stayed, too, of course, to be with his brothers and sisters.”

“How are the kids?” Molly asked. “Angelica briefed us after you called.”

“The kids seem okay. A little anxious, maybe. It’s going to take them a while to adjust.”

“And John?” Jack asked.

“John’s all right,” Alex told him. “He needs some time to get to know the kids, just like they need time to settle in. That’s why he’s there.”

“Okay,” Tony said, “Ben will move into the city week after next. What’s the timetable on the rest of us?”

“A week before Dolphin, I’d say. What do you think?”

“I agree. Who’s going to be where?”

“We have to work out the logistics. Ben will be at Andy’s house, of course. The family room will be used as the clinic. It’s big and has French doors that open onto a patio, in case we need to bring in a stretcher. Oh, and that reminds me – if we don’t have any stretchers, we’re going to need to rig some out of pipes and blankets because we won’t have time to take doors off."

Ben nodded and made a note.

“Anyway,” Alex went on, “there’s a sofa bed and a day bed in the family room now. John’s sleeping on one of them, so Ben can have the other.”

“That’s fine until we need treatment beds,” Ben pointed out.

“I know, hang on,” Alex told him. “Let me get through everything. All the beds at Andy’s are in use. Grammy Nell’s place has one full size bed, but that’s all. I’m thinking we should take the bunks apart and set them up down there. Andy’s house has a finished basement that’s completely empty. We can use that for a sleeping area as well as the other bedroom at Grammy Nell’s.”

Tony started counting on his fingers, “Me, Jack, Molly, Joe, Liz, Herc, Eliza, Angelica, and you. It’ll work.”

“If Jack and Molly take the main bedroom at Grammy Nell’s,” Alex said, “and we move John and Ben to the basement with the sofa bed and day bed, we can put you, Joe, Liz and Angelica in the other bedroom at Grammy Nell’s, and Eliza, Herc, and me in the basement. The sofa bed’s big enough for two, so that leaves us two bunks left for medical use.”

“Does that work for everybody?” Tony asked.

“It’s definitely an improvement for Molly and me,” Jack declared with a grin. Molly rolled her eyes and punched him in the arm.

“The bunks will be better for medical care than sofa beds,” Ben said.

“Anyway,” Joe put in, “we’ll go wherever you need us. You know that.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, “but if we get a consensus ahead of time, it’s better.” He looked at Alex. “How hard is it going to be to dismantle all these bunks?”

“Do they separate into single beds if you take them apart?” Angelica asked.

“No time like the present,” Herc said. “I’ll need a flashlight and a screwdriver at least.”

It took Herc and Jack about twenty minutes to determine how the bunks were put together. They took one set apart and found that they worked as single beds, although they were a bit low to the floor.

“As long as nobody weighs over three hundred pounds, we should be okay,” Herc pronounced. “It’s going to take more than one trip to get them into the city, though. They won’t all fit in the van at once.”

“We can do a couple of trips in a day, right?” Tony asked.

“Yeah,” Alex said. “We’ll take a load down, John and Gil can be setting them up there while we come back for the rest.”

“Another thing there,” Tony broke in. “Where are we going to put all the cars? We’ve got five vehicles. That’s a lot for two houses in a Deplo neighborhood.”

“Let me talk to Annie about that,” Ben said. “She might have some suggestions.”

“Will Jenkins or Andy might be able to help out with that too,” Alex suggested. “I’ll try to get a call to one of them in the morning.”

“Okay, the move is set then,” Tony went on, “and within a couple of days we’ll have plans for the cars. Can we store explosives in Grammy Nell’s shed?”

“I don’t see why not,” Alex said. “There’s a shed in Andy’s back yard too, but it’s pretty small and not in good condition. I guess we could use it, though.”

“Unless the roof leaks and all our stuff gets wet,” Jack pointed out.

“Can we repair it?” Liz asked.

“Probably, but we don’t have much in the way of building materials.”

“Come on, Alex, you know we can get that shit,” Herc reminded him.

“Okay, fine,” Alex told him, “but I’m not the engineer. I’ll hand that off to somebody who can hammer a nail. Angelica?”

“Sure, I’ll take a look at it as soon as we get there, as long as we have temporary storage for stuff.”

“We can leave things in the cars temporarily if we need to,” Jack said. “It would only be for a day or two.”

Tony leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. “You know, I think it might be better if we all went at the same time. We’re going to need some time to set everything up, make repairs if necessary, and get familiar with the area – and all that’s before we actually practice the strategies for Dolphin itself. What do you think?”

Alex nodded. “I think you’re right. We move in ten days. I’ll let Gil and John know we’re coming.”

* * * * *

Jay Reynolds had always had an eye for the main chance. By cutting corners and not being entirely accurate in the bookkeeping for his construction business, he was hanging onto his Hope classification by a thread. One bad year would dump him into the Deplos, and he really didn’t want that. His goal was to be a Have, but even he had to admit that didn’t seem very likely right now.

It helped, though, that Maria had met this Shippen girl at work. Maria did nails at a salon in a Have neighborhood. She knew how to be charming, and she got good tips. Sadie Shippen liked talking to her, probably because Maria sucked up so much that it was screamingly obvious to everybody except Sadie Shippen, but what the hell, it was working. Sadie asked her to get coffee after work one day, and now you could pretty much say they were friends. At least, Sadie invited Maria to tag along sometimes, and occasionally she included Jay too.

Jay had known girls like Sadie before, rich, spoiled Haves who liked the thrill of playing around with a bad boy. Unfortunately, Jay had never managed to keep one of those rich girls interested in him long enough to do any real good, and in this case, Sadie only knew him as Maria’s boyfriend. Still, he flirted with Sadie and flattered her, and dumb Sadie ate it all up, thinking she really was as smart and as pretty and as knowledgeable as Maria and Jay told her she was.

The night those stupid insurrectionists had blown up buildings, the three of them were coming home from a club. Of course, Hopes weren’t allowed in Have clubs, but money makes everything easy, and Sadie had passed some bills to the doorman, and they were in. The club was fabulous, with a live band and great drinks and other discreet activities in the back rooms. That was the kind of life Jay Reynolds wanted, a life of luxury where all you had to do was wave a hand and some poor Deplo waiter brought you whatever you wanted and cringed and smiled in the hope of getting enough of a tip that he could eat that week.

They had left the club and were standing in front of it waiting for a car when they heard the explosion and saw the sky light up. They were just drunk enough to think it would be a good idea to go see the fire. When they got there, there were a couple of people standing on a wall yelling, and a big crowd cheering. They had watched for a few minutes, and Jay began to get uneasy. The crowd was getting bigger and louder, and the people on the wall were stoking the excitement.

“Who are those guys?” Maria had asked.

“Just troublemakers,” Jay had said, shrugging it off.

But Sadie had stared fixedly at the leaders of the demonstration, frowning. She wrinkled her nose and turned to Maria. “I think that’s Angelica Schuyler.”

Maria had no idea who Angelica Schuyler was, but she acted like it was important. “Really? Are you sure?”

Sadie nodded slowly, “Yeah, and that’s Alex Hamilton with her.” She turned to Maria and caught at her hand. “I knew them a long time ago. They’re horrible people.”

“Oh, wow,” Maria responded. “What do you think they’re doing here?”

Sadie had to think some more, so Jay helped her out. “Do you think they might be involved in some of this insurrection shit we hear about?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sadie said, “I bet that’s it. They’re insurrectionists.”

“That makes them criminals!” Jay told her. God, this chick was an idiot. Here was a chance to turn in some insurrectionists and look good to the Greaters and the government, and Sadie was just standing there with her mouth open.

“I saw Angelica once before, over by Jackson Square. She lied to me.” That was obviously a bigger offense than insurrection to Sadie.

“No!” Maria exclaimed. “That’s awful!” Maria was doing a great job here. Jay would have to remember to compliment her on it later.

“Yeah,” Sadie said. “She gave me a fake name and everything. She had a guy with her, said he was her brother.”

Jay laughed knowingly. “I doubt if he was her brother.”

“I know, right?” Sadie agreed. “I reported it, but they said she was dead.”

“She doesn’t look dead to me,” Jay said.

“You know, I did my best to report her before, and somebody obviously messed up. I should report her again.”

Finally! “You really should,” Maria agreed, rolling her eyes at Jay over Sadie’s head, as Sadie fished in her purse for her phone.

“And who are the other guys?” Jay asked, hoping he could get some useful information. They were pretty far away, but he tried to get a good look at their faces. The guy with the long straight hair looked familiar.

“The one next to Angelica is Alex Hamilton,” Sadie said. “I think the other guy is John Laurens.” She found her phone and pulled it out, but turned to Maria. “I was dating a friend of theirs, a really sweet guy. I mean, our relationship was just starting, but we had so much in common, both of us in the same major, everything.” Her bottom lip quivered a little, and Maria made sympathetic noises. “His name was Hercules. Isn’t that cute?” Sadie went on, and Jay tried not to laugh.

“Oh, like, um …” Maria made a little choking sound, “the movie?”

“Mm-hmm,” Sadie nodded. “He was friends with Alex Hamilton and John Laurens, though, and they did everything they could to ruin our relationship.”

“How could they do that?” Maria asked in a voice of great concern.

Sadie arranged her face in an expression of tragic pain. “They took him away from me,” she said. “They were so jealous of me that they couldn’t stand to see him happy with me, and so they … they led him into an abnormal way of life.”

Maria was deeply, deeply shocked. “Oh, no! How disgusting!”

“I know!” Sadie agreed. She stared at the phone in her hand as if she’d forgotten it. “I should call the police.”

“Do it!” Jay encouraged her. He looked back at the crowd and saw that there was no one on the wall. “Hurry! It looks like they’re getting ready to leave!”

Sadie began to make her call, and Jay saw someone else jump up onto the wall. He was taller than the others, broad shouldered, with a mop of curly black hair.

“Do you know that guy?” Jay asked, but Sadie couldn’t do two things at once. He waited impatiently as she finished her call.

She was just putting her phone away when three young guys strode up and stood in front of them.

“You guys slumming?” asked one, a skinny dark guy in his twenties.

Sadie shrank back behind Maria. “What do you mean?” she inquired in her very best Have rich-bitch voice.

“I mean this isn’t the sort of place I would expect to see someone like you.” He looked over at Jay and raised an eyebrow. “Nice hat,” he snickered, and his two friends broke up laughing.

“You have no right to talk to us like that!” Sadie told them, looking to Jay for corroboration.

“Leave us alone,” Jay said. “We’re not bothering you.”

“Well, actually,” the guy in the baseball hat began, but before he could finish, a battered, noisy Kia came flying around the corner like a bat out of hell and skidded along the curb. The driver leaned out the window with a big grin and waved before taking off again, leaving rubber on the road.

Sadie burst into tears. “That was him!” she sobbed. “That was Hercules.”

* * * * *

The Laurens kids had been at Andy’s house for about a week when Marcy approached John hesitantly. He was in the living room with Gil and Peggy, just talking. The younger kids were already in bed.

“Can I talk to you about something?” she asked him.

“Sure,” he said, secretly delighted that she felt comfortable enough to open a conversation. “Do you want to go into the kitchen?”

Marcy shook her head. “I don’t think so. It’s probably better if Gil and Peggy are here too.”

“Okay,” John said, and they all gave her their attention. “What’s up?”

“You know I’ve been talking to Becky Jenkins every time she’s here, right?” Becky Jenkins was their neighborhood runner, and with Desi near the end of her pregnancy, she stopped in every day to see if there were any errands or messages. John had seen her talking with Marcy, but hadn’t thought anything of it, just kids chatting.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I want to be a runner like her,” Marcy told him.

John looked at his little sister and smiled. “C’mere,” he said, pulling her to him. He hugged her and gave her a kiss somewhere near her left eyebrow. “I’m really proud of you for wanting to do that,” he told her.

Marcy turned red and looked at the floor. “It’s not that big a deal,” she said. “Becky’s younger than I am.”

“It is a big deal,” Peggy put in. “Runners have a lot of responsibility, but I know you can handle that. You help so much with the little kids and everything else around here.”

Marcy looked up at her from under her lashes, still red, but smiling. “I like to help,” she said. “All of you are doing so much to bring us a free government, and I feel like I should do more too.”

“Marcy, we’re adults,” John told her. “You don’t have to keep up with us.”

“I know, but this is something I can do.”

“You know you’d have to learn all the streets and that sort of thing, right?” Gil asked.

“Mm-hmm. Becky says I can go with her every day until I know where everything is.”

John turned to Gil and Peggy. “What do you think?”

“I have no doubt that she can do it,” Peggy said, “but it’s up to you to decide.”

“Gil?” John asked.

Gil spoke directly to Marcy. “You know that it could be dangerous if you’re stopped by the Greaters?”

Marcy nodded. “I know.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“A little scared, but not so scared that I can’t do it.”

Gil smiled. “I think that’s how we all feel about what we’re doing now. I think you’d be an excellent runner.”

“Then it’s okay?” Marcy asked John.

“It’s okay,” he told her. “I’ll worry about you, but I’m so proud that you want to do it.”

Marcy threw her arms around him without even hesitating.

* * * * *

Jay Reynolds had tried to get Sadie to identify the tall guy with curly hair who had been with Alex Hamilton and Angelica Schuyler, but with no luck. Once she had seen her former boyfriend Hercules, that was all she could talk about, mostly through sobs and sniffles about how it would have been true love if only his awful friends hadn’t interfered.

Jay had never actually met anyone who had been talked into being gay by their friends, but he wasn’t going to argue with Sadie about it. He didn’t care in the least about Sadie’s previous love life or supposed broken heart, but he was looking for a way to use information about these insurrectionists to benefit himself. He was sure there was reward money out there somewhere. Sadie had reported Hamilton, the Schuyler girl, John Laurens, and even her beloved Hercules to the Greaters, but there was obviously at least one more, and if Jay could identify him, there might be something in it for him. He couldn’t figure out how to begin, though, and it was making him irritable.

“Sadie is getting to be a pain in the ass,” he said to Maria over coffee the next morning. “That girl is stone stupid.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who wanted me to be friends with her,” Maria retorted. She took a sip of her black coffee and made a face. “How come we don’t have any sugar?”

“Because we used it all up. You got any more ration points for sugar? No? Didn’t think so.” He shook his head in disgust. “And you wonder why I want to make friends with Haves.”

“You think I should ask Sadie for sugar?” Maria asked.

“No, moron, I don’t. I just want to remind you that last night we got to go out to a nice club because of her.”

“You just said she was a pain in the ass,” Maria pointed out.

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean I don’t want her around. She can do things for us. I wish she knew who that other guy was. Might be a reward.”

Maria perked up at that. “What about that other guy you know? Jimmy whatsisname.”

“Jimmy Prevost?”

“Yeah.”

Jay shrugged. “He went away on business months ago. I don’t know how long he was supposed to be gone.”

“Maybe you should see if he’s back yet. Didn’t you have something to tell him?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Jay said with a thoughtful smile. “His girlfriend took up with another guy while Jimmy was away, but I don’t know who the guy was or where they are now, so there’s not much I can do with that.”

“You didn’t take any pictures?” Maria asked.

“You think I’m stupid? Of course I took pictures, but I had to set up the camera from across the street, and most of them aren’t very good. Still, if the guy is somebody he knows, he might recognize him even from a bad picture. You know what else? There were other people coming and going there. I wonder if that’s why I thought Alex Hamilton looked familiar.”

“You think he was there?”

Jay shrugged. “Could be. Maybe Jimmy’s girlfriend got herself involved with the insurrectionists. I should go by the house and see if he’s back yet. He’s going to be really pissed when he finds out she took off. It’s possible I might even have some information he could use.”

“And you think he might pay for it?”

“Well, I don’t know if I’d ask him to pay in actual cash money, but he might be willing to do me a favor or two.”

After Jay left to go see if Jimmy Prevost was back home, Maria did her toenails. She had to have nice nails if she worked in the salon. As she applied the bright pink polish, she thought about Alex Hamilton. That had been a long time ago, before she met Jay, but she wondered if maybe she should mention it to him. She’d been bitterly disappointed that nothing had come of her sending John Laurens the videos. She’d probably handled it all wrong, though. What she should have done was sent them to Alex and asked for payment not to show them to John. She was just getting started back then, and her efforts had been pretty amateurish. She’d do better now. She had copies of all the videos, but it looked like Alex was still with John, so there was no market for them now. She’d keep them, though. She and Jay never threw pictures away. You never knew when a picture might come in useful.

She wondered who the other guy they had seen was. Alex and John had met at Columbia, and Angelica Schuyler had gone there too. So had Sadie and her ex with the ridiculous name, Hercules. It seemed likely that this other guy would have been a Columbia student too. She stuck her foot out to admire her nails and tapped her chin thoughtfully. Sadie would probably be able to get into Columbia websites since she was a former student and a Have. Now she and Jay just had to figure out how to get the information without involving Sadie. After all, if there was reward money out on this guy, it was better to split it two ways instead of three.

* * * * *

Marcy spent part of every day with Becky Jenkins, walking all the local streets in every direction over and over. She was a quick learner, and even though almost all the brick row houses looked alike, she was soon able to distinguish them. Doors were painted different colors, railings had different designs, window trims varied a little. She had a good eye for detail, and within a week, could find her way around a ten-block area with no difficulty. The first time she carried a message by herself, she came home almost bursting with pride and couldn’t wait to tell everyone about it. They all cheered her, and John opened some canned peaches for a celebration.

Peggy had told the kids that they wouldn’t be going to school for the rest of the academic year, but that didn’t mean they weren’t going to learn anything. She said she expected them to be back in school in September (and desperately hoped that was true), so they needed to keep up. Since Marcy liked to draw, she had her draw maps of the neighborhood and turned them into board games with pebbles for markers and dice that they had found in the attic. That way the kids learned all the street names in the area, and even Katie began to recognize a few words. They were able to count blocks and houses, and figure out which was the shortest route to get from one place to another without even realizing they were doing math.

“You know you are a genius, _chérie,_ ” Gil said to her as the kids all sat at the table working out a pretend journey she had given them.

She just smiled, and clapped for James when he was the first one to figure it out. She loved doing things with the kids, and was so happy to see John’s brothers and sisters begin to feel comfortable in their new home. They were gradually losing the apprehensive expression that they had arrived with, and were beginning to speak without being afraid of the consequences. They seemed astonished to hear Peggy and Gil or Burr and Desi argue playfully with one another, and all of them had been alarmed at John’s casual use of profanity, their glances darting to the others to see if they were angry.

John had laughed and told them, “Don’t talk like I talk until you’re grown up.”

“At least outside of the house,” Gil had amended, and they had laughed some more.

A few days later, Harry had experimentally tried, “Damn!” when he dropped his pencil, looking sideways at Peggy to see what she would do.

“Maybe you could find a different word to use,” she had suggested calmly.

“Like dang?” Harry had asked, a little embarrassed at himself.

“Yeah, that would be good.”

Katie and Polly were becoming fast friends, despite the age difference. Katie had always been around adults, so she was used to speaking to them directly and honestly. Polly, like her siblings, had avoided the adults in her life as much as possible. It was Katie who took the lead, often holding Polly’s hand and saying things like, “Polly’s thirsty,” or “Polly wants you to read us a book.”

They had found stacks of old books in the attic. Many of them were best sellers from the 1950’s that no one had ever heard of, but some of them were much older. Peggy was working her way through _The Princess and the Goblin_ with Polly and Katie, and John was reading stories about King Arthur to Harry and James. Marcy had found _The Secret Garden_ and would curl up in a chair with it in every spare moment. Gil taught them all to sing French children’s songs like _Sur le Pont d’Avignon,_ and, of course, _Ainsi Font._

Burr and Desi were suitably impressed. “They don’t even know they’re going to school,” Desi said to Peggy one night. “You’ve covered reading, math, and French.”

“It’s a start,” Peggy conceded, “But it’s not enough. We’re not doing history or science or geography. I just don’t want them to lose what they already know before they can go back to school.”

“I wouldn’t say they’re not doing history after that discussion Harry and James had about monarchy versus democracy,” Burr laughed. “I think they wanted Lancelot to run for President.”

“They’re thinking,” Gil said. “That’s the most important. If they’re talking about forms of government, they’re thinking about them and comparing them. I know some adults who can’t do that.”

“True,” John agreed. “Not here,” he added, waving his hand at them, “but if the kids are discussing government, they’re understanding what the Movement is and why we’re in it. That’s what matters. I hope that we have free elections this year, but if not, if something goes wrong with Dolphin, well, there will still be people to fight.”

There was a silence as they all considered that bleak possibility: Dolphin failing, King still in charge of the country, most of the Movement dead, and no one left to fight except children like Harry and James.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Desi said quietly. Burr reached over and took her hand.

John looked over at her sympathetically, thinking back to the beginning of the Movement. He knew there were allies that he couldn't mention outside of the country, allies who would take up the fight if necessary. “There will always be people to stand up for what's right. I absolutely believe that the Movement will take down King,” he declared, “but it doesn’t hurt to remember that some of those who will be fighting were Marcy’s age, even Harry’s age, when this began. The kids know what we’re fighting for.”

* * * * *

“Jimmy Prevost is back,” Jay said to Maria when he got home, “and man, is he ever pissed! The girlfriend took his stuff when she moved out.”

“Everything?” Maria asked, wide-eyed.

“Nah, just some of the furniture,” Jay told her, “but Jimmy’s acting like she stole every single thing he owned. Get the pictures. We’re going to go over there and show him who’s been coming and going from his house, see who he knows. He’s got a computer there, so he can look things up. We’ll see if we have anything useful for him and see how willing he is to pay for information.”

Maria got the flash drives out of their hiding place and followed Jay out the door. They were going to have to take the bus, but maybe, if all went well, they’d be getting a car soon.

Jimmy invited them into the sparsely-furnished living room when they got there.

“Find a seat if you can,” he said sarcastically. “Stupid bitch took all the good stuff.”

To Maria’s eyes, what was left looked perfectly fine – better than anything she and Jay had, anyway. She sat on the edge of a chair and stayed quiet. Jimmy threw himself down on the couch and Jay positioned himself where he could see both of them.

“You know,” Jay said sincerely, “I got worried when I saw what was going on. I knew she was your girlfriend, and then that other guy moved in. I thought, it’s just not right, you know?”

Maria tried not to roll her eyes. Jay was sucking up big time.

“Fucking right,” Jimmy said. “Stupid bitch. I gave her everything she wanted, and how does she treat me?”

“Look,” Jay went on, spreading out his hands in that earnest way he had, “I just wanted to help you if I could. Not get anybody in trouble or anything like that, but just be sure you knew what was happening. As a friend, you know.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy said, “it’s good to know at least one person is still my friend.”

“So I took a few pictures when I was working in the neighborhood,” Jay explained. “Just in case there might be something and you might need a record.”

Jimmy sat up straight. “Pictures?” he asked. He shifted position a little and leaned toward Jay. “You’ve got pictures?”

“I just thought it was something I should do,” Jay responded humbly.

“Where are they?”

Jay turned to Maria. “Babe, give him the pictures.”

Maria smiled and handed them over. All except one drive, that is. They’d hold onto that unless it was absolutely necessary.

Jimmy looked at the flash drives in his hand. “Where the hell did you get flash drives?” he asked.

“Well, you know, I’d really rather not say,” Jay responded with an uncomfortable smile. “Let’s just say a friend did me a favor so I could do you a favor.”

Jimmy nodded, “Yeah, okay, that makes sense.” He got his laptop and put it on the coffee table in front of him. “Are these date-stamped?”

“Yeah.”

Jimmy plugged in the first drive and waited impatiently for the pictures to load. When they were finally ready, he started clicking through them. “These aren’t very good,” he complained. “The lighting is really bad in most of them.”

Jay shrugged. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ve got a cheap camera.”

Jimmy stopped and studied a picture. “Is this the guy who was living here?” he asked.

Jay crossed the room and sat next to him on the couch. The picture showed Burr and Desi walking out the door. Desi was clearly visible, but Burr was slightly behind her and his face was in shadow.

“Yeah, I guess, but you can't see him very well,” Jay said.

“Bitch,” Jimmy muttered. He clicked through a few more, looking for a clearer picture of Burr. He stopped again and gestured at the photo. “This him?”

“Yeah,” Jay said again.

Jimmy leaned in and stared. “I think that’s somebody she works with. I’m going to print this one out.” He sent the picture to the print queue and kept going. After a while he stopped again. “Who’s this guy?”

Jay leaned forward and squinted as if he wasn’t sure. “I think I’ve seen his picture around. I think he’s one of the insurrectionists they’re looking for.”

“Jesus!” Jimmy jumped up and started pacing around the room. “I go away and she’s fucking some dirty Deplo insurrectionist?” He punched the wall and then spun around. “You know his name?”

“If he’s the guy I think he is, his name is Alexander Hamilton,” Jay said, “but hey, you know what? Maria’s got a friend who used to go to college with some of these insurrectionists. She’d probably recognize them better than we would. If you’ve got a phone, maybe we could call her.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jimmy agreed, handing Maria his phone. She texted Sadie and got a quick response.

“She says she can come over now if you want,” she told Jimmy.

“Yeah, good,” Jimmy nodded, and Maria texted Sadie back.

“You’ll like Sadie,” Jay said. “You might have heard of her dad, Judge Shippen?”

Jimmy’s eyebrows went up. “One of Judge Shippen’s girls? Sure, I know the family, but the only one of the girls I knew was Meg, the one who married Ben Arnold.”

“She’s in Switzerland now, right?” Maria asked. “I think that’s what Sadie said.”

“Yeah, I guess, Switzerland, Sweden, one of those. I think things got a little too hot here for Ben. I never knew him well, but Meg was gorgeous. Everybody said she was the best-looking one in the family.” He looked at Maria speculatively. “How about this Sadie? She cute?”

“Oh, Sadie’s really pretty,” Maria assured him. “Blond hair and blue eyes. She’s really sweet, too. She’s been through some bad times, though.” Maria put on her sad face.

“Really? What?”

“Well, when she was in college with Alex Hamilton and Angelica Schuyler and some of these other people who later became insurrectionists …” She stopped and looked down. “I probably shouldn’t be talking about it.”

Jay got up and stooped down in front of her, patting her arm. “It’s okay, babe. You know, I think Jimmy should know before Sadie gets here. It might help him understand if she’s a little, you know, emotional.”

Maria nodded and gave him a hug. “You’re right,” she told him. “I wouldn’t want Jimmy to think I’m just gossiping.”

“Oh, not at all,” Jimmy assured her. “I know you wouldn’t do that.”

Which just showed how stupid he was, Maria thought. He’d met her, what, half an hour ago, and he “knew” what she would and wouldn’t do. Another idiot. That was good, though. Between him and Sadie Shippen, she and Jay had some excellent prospects.

* * * * *

A tapping noise woke Gil at about two o’clock in the morning. He sat up, trying not to wake Peggy, and reached for his jeans. The tapping came again, and he realized someone was knocking on the bedroom door. He scrambled into the jeans and opened the door cautiously.

Burr was standing there in sweat pants and a tee shirt, looking calm but concerned. “I think we’re going to have to wake Marcy up,” he said. “Desi and I have been timing the contractions, and they’re about five minutes apart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that the Jay and Maria stuff here is from a while back on the Gil and Peggy timeline, but I hope it wasn't too confusing. They're almost in the same chronological place now, and should be fully caught up in the next chapter.  
> Thanks for your patience while I unraveled all these threads. I have a couple of very crowded weeks coming up, so I may only be updating once a week until mid-February. I'll try to do more, but I just don't want you to think I'm forgetting about you guys. Thank you so much for continuing to read and remaining interested in this story. I appreciate the comments and kudos so much. I love to hear what you think. <3 <3 <3


	45. When You Came Into the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sadie, Jimmy, Maria, and Jay are up to no good. Gil gets an unexpected job. There is honey for tea.

Marcy was still a little out of breath when she came back. “Becky and Sam ran too, so it’s out to everybody. We’ll hear from Annie soon.”

Peggy gave her a hug. “So proud of you, girl,” she said. “Do you want some tea? I don’t think there’s much point in trying to get back to sleep.”

Marcy nodded, and Peggy made the tea. She had gotten up and dressed as soon as Gil told her, and had sat with Desi while Marcy carried the message. They were letting John and the other kids sleep a little longer. The baby wouldn’t arrive for a while.

Gil came in from checking Desi’s vitals and helped himself to tea. “No coffee?” he asked. “I could use more caffeine.”

“No coffee, _chéri,_ ” Peggy told him. “Sorry. How is everything?”

“Extremely normal,” he replied with a smile. “It’ll be several hours yet. My guess is early afternoon. Maybe you should try to get some sleep?”

“I couldn’t. I‘m wide awake. Maybe I could sit with Desi for a while and Burr could rest?”

“I suggested that, but he said the same thing you just said. It looks like we’re all up for the day.”

“It’s okay. We’re awake for a good reason.”

“It’s kind of exciting,” Marcy said shyly.

“You’re right,” Gil agreed. “It’s very exciting. It’s not every day a new baby is born to someone we care about.”

“When my brothers and sister were born, my mom went to the hospital,” Marcy told them. “We didn’t know anything until somebody called and told us the baby was born. This is really different because we’re all here in the same house. It’s like the baby is born right into the family.” She blushed and looked down, embarrassed at sharing her feelings.

“That’s exactly what it’s like,” Peggy said. “Remember, babies were always born at home a hundred years ago. I have to admit, I’d rather Desi was at a hospital for safety’s sake, but I’m sure she’ll be fine with Annie.”

“It’s been a normal, uneventful pregnancy,” Gil reminded her, “and it looks like it’s going to be a normal, uneventful birth.”

“Isn’t this a little earlier than she expected?” Peggy asked.

“A week or ten days, maybe. It’s not really significant as long as everything else is normal, which it is.”

“All things considered, though, I think I’ll opt for hospital birth when the time comes,” Peggy told him.

Gil raised an eyebrow at her. “You know, maybe a year from now, if all goes well …”

Peggy got out of her chair and came around the table to hug him from behind. “That’s not that long, is it?” she said against his cheek.

“Mm, maybe not, but I feel like we’ve been waiting forever.” He turned to kiss her, and Marcy blushed again. Gil put his arm around Peggy and pulled her onto his lap. “You must get used to us, Marcy,” he laughed. “I love my wife.”

“It’s okay,” Marcy said. “I think you guys are cute. John says you fell in love at first sight.” She said the words as if they were in quotation marks.

“We did indeed,” Gil told her.

Marcy looked at Peggy. “How old were you?”

“I was pretty young,” she admitted. “Seventeen.”

“It seems so romantic,” Marcy said. “Like something in a book.”

“I know,” Peggy agreed, “but at the time, it just seemed so …” she turned to Gil. “What, natural? Normal?”

“Inevitable,” Gil offered.

“Yes, that’s the perfect word. As if there wasn’t any other possibility.”

“Is that why Alex says you’re crazy?” Marcy asked curiously.

Gil laughed. “Alex has been saying that for almost three years now,” he said, “but we’re still together, still in love.”

“And married,” Peggy reminded him.

“Married,” he repeated, looking at her in the way that made her blush. She hid her face against his shoulder. “Married and planning a family and talking about the house we’ll buy,” he added to Marcy.

Marcy drank some tea. “Can I come see you in your house?” she asked.

“Of course!” Peggy replied. “Everybody will be there for every Thanksgiving.”

“Really? All of us?”

“That was decided a long time ago,” Gil told her.

* * * * *

Much to Jay and Maria’s delight, Sadie and Jimmy hit it off right away. They had similar grievances and were able to bond over their dismay with previous relationships.

“So your girlfriend started hanging out with insurrectionists?” Sadie asked Jimmy. “When she could have had you and all this?” She waved her hand at the surroundings. “That’s just unbelievable.”

“I know, right? She really had me fooled.”

“Wasn’t she a Have?” Jay asked, as if he didn’t know.

“Absolutely!” Jimmy responded. “You think I’d be with a Deplo or even a Hope?” he remembered who he was talking to. “Sorry, but you know what I mean. Most of them aren’t like you.”

Jay nodded, reminding himself that he was going to be able to use Jimmy and anger would get in the way. “So the guy she took up with, you said he might be somebody she worked with?”

“Yeah,” Jimmy said. “I sent his picture over to her boss, see if he can identify the guy. Haven’t heard back yet.”

“And we know Alex Hamilton was here,” Jay prodded.

“Yeah, and Angelica Schuyler and John Laurens are on a couple of the pictures, and some other guys. If Hamilton, Laurens, and Schuyler were dropping in for visits, you can bet Desi got herself mixed up with that whole Movement shit.”

“That other guy that was up on the wall,” Jay went on, “the tall guy with the curly hair – did you see him in any of the pictures? He looked kind of familiar to me.” That was a lie, but Jay really thought he was the one they’d have the best chance of identifying and then getting a reward for.

“I don’t know,” Jimmy shrugged. “I wasn’t there the night they were all standing on the wall that you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yeah, right.”

“Maybe I could look,” Sadie offered, exactly as Jay had hoped she would. “I saw him.”

“And you know,” Maria put in with a glance at Jay, “Since Alex Hamilton and John Laurens and Angelica Schuyler all went to Columbia, maybe he did too.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sadie agreed. “I never thought of that.”

Maria wanted to slap her, but kept smiling. “Are there any websites for Columbia?” she asked. “You know, like student lists or something?”

Sadie had to think hard. “Mm, I don’t think so.”

“It would have to have a picture,” Jay reminded her.

“Oh, yeah.” She thought some more, and then brightened. “What about the school paper? It has lots of pictures.”

“Can we look at back issues online?” Jimmy asked.

“Sure,” Sadie told him, “but I’ll need to access it because I have my alumni ID.”

Jimmy turned his laptop over to Sadie, and she started typing.

“You know, there are a lot of back issues,” Sadie said. “It goes back to, like, the eighteen hundreds.”

“Yeah, we probably don’t need anything that far back,” Jay pointed out. “You know, just for around the time Hamilton and the others were there.”

“Oh, right, right,” Sadie agreed with a giggle.

“You remember that tall guy with all the hair?” Maria prompted. “We want to find a picture of him so we can identify him.”

Sadie nodded, tongue between her teeth as she concentrated. “Here’s something about Alex Hamilton,” she said. “Oh, wait, it’s not about him, he just wrote it.” She kept scrolling. “Oh, here’s a picture.” She stared at the screen and her eyes filled up. She turned the laptop so the others could see the photograph of a group of students.

“I don’t see him in that picture,” Jay said. “None of them are as tall as he was.”

“Oh, no, I know, but don’t you see? Hercules is in that picture,” Sadie sniffled.

Jay read the caption about textile design. “Oh, yeah, that’s too bad,” he forced himself to say.

“Don’t look at it,” Maria advised. “It will just make you feel worse.”

“You’re right,” Sadie agreed, and continued to scroll. She hesitated at one, and then scrolled back. “Is this him?” she asked. “I mean, it doesn’t seem very likely, but it kind of looks like him.”

Jay leaned over to look at the picture and read the headline, _An Aristocrat in a Cosmopolitan City._ ”Yeah,” he said with satisfaction, “that’s him.”

* * * * *

“How are you doing?” Gil asked Desi at seven o’clock.

“Okay,” she said. “Tired.” She didn’t want to talk. “Where’s Annie?”

“Annie’s with another mom right now,” Gil told her. “She’ll be here in a little while, so she asked me to keep an eye on you.”

Desi nodded and took a deep breath as another contraction came.

“Breathe through it,” Gil reminded her.

She did, and Burr breathed with her, holding tight to her hand. It passed, but the contractions were getting stronger. Desi’s eyes closed and she tried to rest. Gil looked at Burr and jerked his head toward the hall. Burr nodded, understanding.

“I’m going to go get some tea,” he told Desi. “Peggy will sit with you.”

Peggy took his place next to Desi, and he followed Gil into the kitchen. Becky Jenkins was sitting there with Marcy.

“What’s up?” Burr asked.

“Annie’s tied up with a complicated birth,” Gil said. “Twins, first one breech. She’s hopeful she’ll be able to deliver them soon, but she can’t leave.”

“What about another midwife?”

Becky spoke up. “Sam and I went as far as we could in the network. We couldn’t find anybody else.”

“What do you mean you couldn’t find anybody else?” His voice was controlled, but the underlying tension was there, and it scared Becky a little.

“All the other midwives are either handling another birth or, well, not reachable,” she said.

“What does that mean?”

Gil handed Burr a cup of tea. “It seems that in the past couple of weeks, there’s been a crackdown on those ‘practicing medicine without a license.’ Several midwives have been arrested.”

“Shit,” Burr said flatly.

“Annie talked to me about it, but we were hoping she’d be able to be here. It doesn’t look like she will, though.”

Burr swallowed some tea. “You’re going to deliver my daughter, aren’t you?” he asked without much surprise.

“If it helps, Annie went over everything with me the last couple of times she was here,” Gil told him.

“That doesn’t help a lot.”

“She also told me to tell you that in a normal, uneventful delivery, all you have to do is catch the baby.”

“That _really_ doesn’t help,” Burr said.

* * * * *

“The Marquis de Lafayette,” Sadie read, pronouncing the s. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s French,” Jimmy said. “Look, it says right here, he came to New York to go to college. What, they don’t have colleges in France?”

“So how come he’s still here?” Sadie asked.

Jay wondered the same thing. If this Marquis guy was French, why in the world would he get involved with insurrectionists? Why didn’t he just go back to France? “Let me see,” he demanded, moving closer so he could see the screen. “It says here that he wanted to experience life in the greatest city in the world. I guess that means New York. Maybe he just wanted to stay?” He read the whole article. “There’s a lot of stuff in here about two great democracies, shared history, that kind of crap. Sounds like some kind of dean’s list pinhead.”

“Well, that’s stupid,” Sadie declared. “He could be safe in France, but he decided to stay here and join the Movement. He must be that kind of guy, you know. Somebody who would be in trouble no matter where they were.”

“Let me see,” Maria said, and Jay turned the laptop toward her. She scanned the article quickly and studied the picture. “Well, that’s definitely the guy who was up on the wall that night.”

“So was he ever at the house?” Jimmy asked.

“Let me see the pictures,” Jay said, and Jimmy pulled the picture files back up on the screen. Jay went through them slowly and paused on one. “I think this is him, but his hair is different.”

Maria leaned closer. “Yeah,” she agreed. “It looks like he’s got his hair in braids, but it’s the same face.” She stared for a while. Quite a face, she thought. This French guy was hot.

* * * * *

Gil left Burr with Desi and found John waiting for him at the foot of the stairs.

“So when the hell were you going to wake me up?” John asked.

“When I needed to, which is right about now. It looks like Annie’s not going to get here.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, but we’ll manage. Not much choice,” Gil admitted.

"How long has it been?"

"Burr woke me up at two, and she'd been having contractions for over an hour then, so, what is it now, eight? Six, seven hours. It will be a while yet."

“What do you need me to do?”

“Keep the kids occupied and downstairs. I’ll have Peggy with me, and Marcy can take messages if we need her to. I’ll put a chair in the hall for her. Is Becky still here?”

“I think so. Do you need her to go somewhere?”

“I’d like to get some sugar. Desi’s going to need something to drink. She’s been sipping plain water, and that’s okay, but it would be better if she could have something a little sweet. What’s our ration card situation?”

John shook his head. “We’ve got a few points, and there’s some money, but I don’t know if there’s any sugar in any store we can get Becky to.”

“Let’s give it a try.”

John went to get the ration cards and money, and Gil went into the kitchen where Marcy and Becky were still sitting.

“Becky,” he said, “John’s going to give you some money and a card, and I want you to try to find us some sugar. Desi should have something sweet for energy. If you can’t find sugar, anything like honey or syrup would be good, or clear juice like apple juice or cranberry. Also, if you could stay here, I would really appreciate it. Everything seems to be going fine, but I’m going to need Marcy’s help today, and she won’t be able to run errands.”

“Sure,” Becky told him. “I’ll let my mom know, and then I’ll just stay here as long as you need me.”

“Thank you,” Gil said to her. He turned to Marcy. “We’re going to set you up in the hall outside Desi’s door. That way if we need John to get anything for us, you can take the message. It will be much better than yelling down the stairs for him. We want everything to be calm and peaceful for Desi.”

Marcy nodded seriously.

“Mostly you’re going to be sitting,” Gil went on, “so bring a book to read.”

John came in and handed Becky their available money and a ration card that had enough points to buy sugar, provided there was any to be found. Becky gave Marcy a quick hug and took off.

“We’ve got plenty of powdered milk, right?” Gil asked John.

“Sure,” John told him. “That’s one thing we always have.”

“If Becky finds enough sugar, could you make rice pudding?”

John thought for a minute. “It would be better if I had eggs, but yeah, I can come up with something.”

“It would be good if you could make that for later. Desi’s going to be really hungry, and I want to be sure we have something for her to eat, something easy on her digestion.”

“And – what is it Alex says? Nutrient-dense?” John grinned.

“Yeah, that’s it. Nutrient-dense food.”

“I think I’ve got everything to make that tomato-lentil soup, too.”

Gil looked at him and smiled. “That would be great,” he said.

“I’ll get the kids to help me. They can measure and stir, and it will make them feel like they’re really contributing.”

Gil put an arm around his shoulders and gave him a hug. “My wife is right,” he told John. “You are the best brother.”

“Yeah,” John agreed.

Gil took Marcy upstairs with him and dragged an armchair out of the boys’ room. Then they gathered the supplies that Annie had listed for him, towels, pillows and blankets, as well as his medical bag. He saw that Marcy was curled up in the armchair with _The Secret Garden_ , and gave the rest to Peggy in the bedroom. He went into the bathroom, tied his hair back and scrubbed his hands and arms. Marcy opened the bedroom door for him so he didn’t have to touch the doorknob.

Desi was still calm. Burr had broken the news to her that it would be Gil, not Annie, who would be delivering their baby. She looked up at him and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “So, Doc,” she said, “how many babies have you delivered?”

“Well,” he responded in the same tone, “you know what they say.”

“What’s that?”

“You never forget your first.”

Burr snorted at that, and Desi actually started to laugh but at that instant another contraction started. “Damn you!” she snapped, but it wasn’t clear whether she was talking to Gil, Burr, or the contraction.

Burr talked her through it, breathing with her. It went on for well over a minute.

“Shit,” Desi gasped when it was over. “That hurt!”

“You’re doing great,” Gil told her.

There was a tap at the door. Peggy opened it to find Marcy holding a mug. “It’s tea with honey,” she said proudly. Peggy gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, and took the tea to Desi.

“Tea with honey,” she said. “Can you drink a little?”

Desi took a sip. “Oh, that’s so good. Where did you get honey?”

“We sent Becky out,” Gil told her. “We’ve got a great team here.”

“Yeah,” Desi said, drinking a little more.

Gil took the opportunity to talk to Burr in the hall. "How long between contractions now?"

"Not much difference, maybe four minutes."

"I'll be downstairs," Gil told him. "When it gets to three minutes, send Marcy for me."

"Okay," Burr agreed. "How much longer?"

"A while."

Gil spent the next few hours reviewing all the information he'd ever read on childbirth and going over everything Annie had told him.

"You okay?" Peggy asked.

He nodded. "I think so. I'm just hoping for a nice cooperative baby, left occiput anterior."

"I'm sorry, what?"

He smiled. "It's the best presentation for the baby."

"Presentation?"

"The part of the baby that comes out first."

"Oh, okay. Where is that left oxy-whatsis?"

"Right here," he said, placing his hand on her head.

She put her hand over his. "So that's what you'll see first?" she asked.

He nodded and kissed her hand. "I hope."

They were both quiet, thinking about babies. "Gil, _chéri,_ do you think ..." she hesitated.

" _Qu'est-ce que tu veux me demander, chérie?"_

 _"_ Will you want to deliver our babies?"

"I've been asking myself that," he said.

"And?"

"I don't know. I think yes, but I also want to be with you, so I don't know."

"We have time to decide," she reminded him.

He nodded. _Too much time,_ he thought. _Too much waiting._

A few hours later, Marcy came downstairs and told Gil that Burr wanted him. They found Desi sipping another cup of tea with honey, trying to stay hydrated.

“How long between contractions now?” Gil asked Burr, who had been keeping meticulous notes.

“About three minutes,” he said.

“Getting closer. Desi, is it okay if I check to see where the baby is now?”

“You think maybe she went out for a walk or something?” Desi asked and shoved the tea mug into Peggy’s hand. “Ah, _goddam_!”

“Breathe!” Burr said, pacing her, “In two three four, out two three four.”

Desi kept breathing, hanging on to Burr’s hand on one side and Peggy’s on the other. As the contraction eased, she shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “Can I have pillows?” she asked.

Peggy piled pillows behind her to help support her back, and Desi sipped some more tea.

“After the next contraction, I’m going to examine you,” Gil said.

Desi nodded, “Whatever you need to do.”

She got through the next contraction, and Gil bent down to check on the baby’s progress. He stood back up with a grin, as another contraction came, and Desi cursed at everybody.

“Desi, I can see your baby’s head,” Gil told her. “She’s got a lot of hair.”

“Really? You can see her?” Desi gasped, crying.

“Yeah. You’re working hard. Now when the next contraction comes, I want you to push with it, okay?”

“Okay,” Desi nodded. “Can I have more tea?”

Peggy held the mug for her, and then the next contraction came and Gil knelt down at the end of the bed.

“Okay, stop pushing and just breathe,” he said, and she followed his instructions. “Peggy, have a baby blanket ready.”

It seemed like there was almost no time between contractions now, and as Desi pushed through the next one, her baby’s head was born, and Gil slid his hand under it to guide her out. _Left occiput anterior presentation. How lucky we are,_ he thought, as the baby’s shoulder followed in a textbook delivery.

“One more push, Desi,” he said, and the next contraction pushed a baby girl into his arms. She gave a little gasp and then began to cry. He took the blanket from Peggy and covered the baby as he handed her to Desi.

“We have to keep her warm,” he said. “Hold her against your skin.”

Desi held her daughter, marveling at her face, as little Teddie blinked and stretched in her new world. Burr was kneeling beside the bed, talking to both of them. Peggy  kneeled down next to her husband. She reached out and touched his cheek, and it was then that he realized that there were tears running down his face.

“You did good, _chéri,_ ” Peggy whispered.

“We were lucky. Everything went perfectly.” He looked down at his hands, and Peggy gave him a towel.

There was a knock at the door. Peggy opened it and Marcy said, “Annie will be here in a few minutes.” She looked over at Desi and the baby. “Can I see her?” she whispered.

“In a little bit. We’ll let Annie finish up here.”

“Not much left for her to do,” Burr said.

“Well, we’re not quite done,” Gil told him, “so I’ll be glad to see her.”

“Gil,” Desi said.

“Hm?”

“Thank you isn’t enough.”

“You did all the work,” he told her.

“And all you had to do was catch the baby, right?” Burr asked, but his eyes were full.

“Yeah.” He leaned over and looked at the tiny girl he had brought into the world. “ _Bonjour,_ Teddie,” he said. “ _Bienvenue_.”

Annie arrived a few minutes later and made sure that everything was concluded safely. She congratulated Burr and Desi on their new daughter, and told Gil she couldn’t have done any better herself at delivering the baby. She helped Desi start nursing and made sure she was comfortable, then accepted the offer of a cup of tea in the kitchen with Peggy and Gil. There was soup bubbling on the stove, and all five kids were helping John cook.

“We made rice pudding,” James told them. “It’s got honey in it.”

“Bees make honey,” Katie announced.

“Yes, they do,” Peggy agreed. “How did you know that?”

“Uncle John said.”

“Uncle John knows a lot of things, doesn’t he?”

Katie nodded enthusiastically, and Polly offered her contribution. “I put in the simamum.”

Peggy made a guess. “The cinnamon?”

“Yeah,” Polly said, beaming.

“I’m sure it’s going to be good,” Peggy told her. “Hey, John, how much honey did we get?”

John grinned and held up a jar that still had at least a cup of honey in it.

“Oh, wow, how did that happen?”

“Becky’s mom knows somebody who knows somebody who keeps secret beehives, and wanted to help out a lady having a baby.”

“Secret beehives,” Gil mused. “How crazy is our world?”

“But it’s good that somebody wanted to help, right?” Peggy said. “And the world won’t be crazy much longer.”

Gil pulled her onto his lap. “You keep me sane, _chérie,_ ” he said into her hair, and she reached up to put her hands in his hair and pull his face down for a kiss.

Annie seemed a little embarrassed, and John said to her, “Don’t mind them.”

“Tonton loves Tatie,” Katie explained helpfully, and Annie laughed along with everyone else.

“When can we see the baby?” Marcy wanted to know.

“Do you think it would be okay if I take the kids in just for a minute after we have tea?” Peggy asked Annie.

“I think so,” Annie said. “Everybody can go in and say hello, but just for a minute. Desi needs lots of rest.”

“And we’ll have to remember to be quiet when the baby is sleeping,” John reminded the kids.

“Everybody wash your hands really well,” Gil said. “I don’t know if Desi wants anybody to hold the baby just yet, but it’s a good habit to get into.”

The kids scrambled off to line up in the downstairs bathroom, and Annie said, “You’ve got quite a houseful here.”

“We do,” Peggy nodded, “and more arriving soon.”

“There’s something going on with the Movement, isn’t there?”

“You know we can’t discuss anything,” John told her.

“I know,” she said, “but I’ll be glad when it happens. I want things to be the way they were under President Washington.”

“We all do,” John agreed.

Annie promised to be back the next day to check on Desi. After she left, they took the excited children upstairs, admonishing them to be quiet and gentle. Desi responded, “Come in,” to Peggy’s knock, and they all crowded into the bedroom, the children absolutely silent and wide-eyed.

Desi was sitting up, still looking very tired, but she seemed to be comfortable. Burr was in the chair next to her, holding Teddie, who was asleep.

“You can come see her,” he said quietly, and the children gathered around him, staring at the baby in his arms.

“I never saw a just-born baby,” Harry whispered.

“She’s only about two hours old,” Burr told him.

Katie’s eyes were just about level with Teddie and she stared intently. When Teddie stretched her tiny arm in her sleep, Katie jumped and spun around to face Peggy. “She moves!” she said excitedly.

“Yes, she does,” Peggy agreed, trying not to laugh.

“Can we play with her?” Polly asked.

“Not now, because she’s too little,” Peggy said, “but you can when she’s bigger.”

Desi looked at her daughter in Burr’s arms, and, as tired as she was, her face lit up with love. “Hey, Teddie,” she said, “these people are all part of your family. I’m going to introduce them to you.” She turned to the kids. “Now when I tell her who you are, you say hi, okay, and that will help her to learn your name.” Desi solemnly introduced each of the kids by their full names – “This is Miss Mary Eleanor Laurens, but we call her Polly” – and each one spoke to Teddie, from Marcy’s, “Hi, Teddie, we’re so glad you’re here,” to Katie’s “Your arm moved!” When they’d all been introduced, Desi said, “We weren’t sure about whether Teddie would have a middle name because her real name is Theodosia, and that’s pretty long, right? But we talked about it a little while ago, and we decided that we want to use one of Gil’s names for her middle name, because he brought her into the world. So, ladies and gentlemen, I’d like you to meet Miss Theodosia Marie Burr.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're happy to welcome Miss Theodosia Marie Burr to our story. I'm hoping the name Theodosia catches on again, because it's really pretty. The real Theodosia Burr did not have a middle name as far as I can tell, but here in our own little AU, we can make things up. If you suspected that Gil was going to end up delivering the baby, please raise your hand. Good job seeing that coming! And the left occiput anterior thing is correct. Helpful to have a close friend who is a nursing major. Anyway, mother and baby are doing fine.  
> Other things are getting darker.  
> Thank you all, always, for all the good stuff like kudos and comments. I got this chapter up faster than i expected, so, again, now through mid-February is crazy time here; don't despair if postings slow down. I promise I won't abandon the story or my readers.


	46. Lying in Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The squads reunite in the city. Maria and Jay investigate Burr's sister. Another investigation gets underway.

Miss Theodosia Marie Burr was one week old when the rest of her unconventional family began moving in. Alex and Herc arrived early in the morning in the van with a load of disassembled bunks that they dumped in the family room. Alex gave John a brief explanation of what needed to be done and then headed back to the cabin for a second load. By late afternoon, they had moved everything they needed, and had brought all the cars into the city as well. The Kia would stay at Grammy Nell’s and John’s Acura and Jack’s SUV would be at Andy’s. The van and the Audi would be parked in empty garages belonging to friends of Will Jenkins, Deplos who had had to sell their cars but were still hanging on to their homes. They were delighted to get even the nominal rent that Tony offered them for the garage space.  It took the rest of the day to get the furniture assembled and set up, and there was quite a bit of back-and-forth between Grammy Nell’s house and Andy’s house, making sure that everyone’s belongings were in the right place. It seemed a bit odd that Angelica was with Tony’s squad, while Ben was with Alex’s, but it was more practical because Ben would be setting up the medical facility. With only four blocks between the houses, they were actually much closer than they had been in the mountains.

Everybody came by at some point during the day to say hello to Teddie. Desi was up and around and feeling fine, although tired. She and Burr were grateful for all the help with the baby. Even Polly and Katie were happy to fetch diapers or towels for her.

“Honestly, I don’t know how she’ll ever learn to walk,” Burr said. “Somebody’s always holding her.”

It was true that Teddie got passed around from one person to another, constantly held and cuddled, and as a result almost never cried. “Except when she’s hungry at two in the morning,” Desi reminded everybody.

Peggy was delighted to be reunited with her sisters, even if Angelica was sleeping in a different house. Talking to them every day helped her feel grounded, and Eliza was the best person in the world to go to for advice. Eliza spent her first few days in the house getting to know the Laurens children. She and Peggy were able to collaborate on some of the lessons for the kids, still focusing on the goal of their being able to return to school in September.

Alex would have liked to just follow John around for a while, but preparation for Dolphin was becoming more focused, and he was busy all the time. There was much more frequent communication from Headquarters, and ordinary Missions like armed car diversions were on hold. A few days after everyone arrived, Zach Hanson and Jake Ziegler turned up in a panel truck, and there were dozens of large wooden crates to be unloaded and stored at Grammy Nell’s house. By now the neighbors of both houses would have had to have been blind not to notice that things were going on. Will Jenkins and Andy talked to them and found nothing but sympathy. This was not a Have neighborhood, and things were steadily getting worse for Hopes and Deplos.

It wasn’t long before there was a knock on the front door of Andy’s house, and everyone fell silent, making sure their guns were at hand. Alex answered the door, John angled behind him, aiming over his shoulder.

There were three young men standing there. They looked vaguely familiar. The thin dark one held out his hand.

“I don’t know if you remember me,” he said. “Roger Stayner? I met you the night the condos and the paper warehouse got blown up.”

Alex and John both remembered Roger and his two friends, and invited them in.

“You were the guys who stalled the Shippen bitch and her friends for us,” John recalled. “Thanks for that.”

“No problem,” Roger grinned. “They were pretty annoying.”

“Yeah, they might be trying to be even more annoying,” Alex agreed. “We’d like to know where they are so we can keep an eye on them.”

Roger shook his head. “Haven’t seen them since,” he said.

“It’s okay,” Alex told him. “We’re working on it. So, did you guys just come by to say hi?”

“No,” Roger said. “We want to join the Movement and fight.”

Alex took them into the kitchen and sat them down with himself and John, questioning them carefully and discussing the possible ways they could participate. Within a few days, Roger, Dave, and Hugh had become invaluable assets because they knew the city and its neighborhoods well. They also had friends who were interested in joining up. Alex and Tony worked to organize them, seeing where their individual strengths lay and assigning them tasks. The Movement began to take on a more military aspect.

Peggy noticed that Gil’s mood was lifting. “You’re excited again, aren’t you?” she asked him. “Getting ready to fight?”

“Not excited to fight, _chérie,_ ” he told her, “although I will fight as hard as I can. Excited to see the end of it, to think that in, maybe a few months, we could be buying a house.”

“And working on starting a family?”

He gave her a familiar smile. “I would not consider that work,” he said, bending down to kiss her.

*          *          *          *          *

Maria didn’t want Jimmy to report the French guy to the Greaters right away. That way, she thought, she and Jay could find him first, and get him to pay them for warning him. When they talked about him, she kind of brushed him off as unimportant and encouraged Jimmy to focus on Desi’s new boyfriend. “He was only at the house once,” she reminded him.

Jimmy had heard back from Desi’s old boss. He identified the man in the picture as Aaron Burr, a previous employee who had disappeared not long after Desi did. The two of them were suspected of having stolen several government shipments, and the Greaters would love to know where they were.

“Do you think we can find them?” Maria asked Jay when the two of them were alone, back in their shabby apartment.

“Maybe. There’s that girl …”

Maria nodded. “She never came around before the new boyfriend was there.”

“So she’s a friend of his, not Desi’s?”

“I think she’s more likely to be a relative. How many guys would have a female friend come visit a girlfriend?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Jay conceded. “Sister, you think?”

“Or cousin, but let’s work on sister first,” Maria suggested. “The last name Burr isn’t very common, and that gives us something to go on.”

“And we do know where she lives,” Jay reminded her.

“Yeah,” Maria agreed, thinking of the flash drive they hadn’t showed Jimmy. There was no reason to, and if he got it, he could use it against them. Still, she had that rule about never throwing away a picture. “Do you think she knows those guys in the Movement?”

Jay shrugged. “She was there at least one time that Alex Hamilton was there, right? Worth a try.”

“If we knew where they were,” Maria said thoughtfully, “we could make a bundle.”

“For sure,” Jay was envisioning what he could do if he got some real money. “Do you want to do the delivery thing to see if we can get her full name – assuming she’s his sister, that is?”

“I think so. It’s pretty easy to cover on that if we’re totally wrong.”

At about ten the next morning, they took the bus to the neighborhood where they knew the girl lived. They were both dressed inconspicuously in ordinary jeans and shirts, being sure they wore nothing that would catch anybody’s eye. Maria was wearing a small backpack. They got off the bus a couple of blocks from the girl’s house and went into a crowded fast food restaurant. Once inside, Jay ordered a small coffee, and Maria went to the rest room. Jay found a seat in the back, near a couple of tables with noisy kids, and settled in to drink the coffee slowly. When Maria emerged from the rest room, her hair was pulled back into a businesslike bun. She was wearing a brown jumpsuit and carrying a clip board and an express envelope. She ignored Jay as she walked by him, handing him the backpack quickly and unobtrusively. He slid the backpack onto the seat beside him and continued sipping the coffee. Maria left the restaurant and went around the corner to the street she was looking for. The girl lived in a decent four-story gray block apartment building. Maria went into the entryway and looked at the directory. They were in luck. Apartment 3C was rented by someone named S. Burr. She buzzed that one first. Her luck held – no answer. She quickly wrote S Burr on the express envelope with an illegible scrawl after the S. Then she tried 3D and got no answer, but 3B, a W. Powell, picked up, a gravelly male voice that sounded like it belonged to a smoker.

“Express delivery for Miss Burr,” she said brightly.

“She don’t live here,” said the smoker’s voice.

“I know,” Maria told him. “I already tried her, but I can’t leave this envelope without a signature, and I’m sure it’s something important. Do you think maybe you could sign for it and give it to her later? I’d really appreciate it if you would.” She did her best to sound both concerned and coaxing.

There was a moment of silence, and then a put-upon sigh. “I guess I can,” Powell said. “I’ll buzz you in.”

Powell turned out to be a guy in his forties who did in fact reek of smoke. He was dressed in faded sweats and looked like he hadn’t washed his hair in a couple of weeks. _You’re never going to get out of here looking like that,_ Maria thought. She’d learned early on to keep up her appearance, even if she didn’t always have enough money for food. People don’t see what’s in your stomach, but they see what you’re wearing, and fair or unfair, you’re judged by your appearance.

She gave the grubby-looking guy her best smile, and handed him a fake form to sign. Then she frowned prettily and said, “Oh, one more thing, if you don’t mind. I can’t read the way the sender wrote her first name here, and I’m supposed to have it for my records. Is it Susan?” She showed him the envelope.

“Jeez, that handwriting’s worse than mine,” Powell said. “No, it’s Sally.”

“Thank you so much,” Maria said, carefully writing Sally on another fake form and giving him a radiant smile. “You’ve been such a big help.”

“No problem,” Powell responded, smiling back and showing teeth badly discolored by tobacco. “What’s your name, if you don’t mind?”

Maria ducked her head as if she were embarrassed. “I’m Jenny,” she told him.

“You got a phone number, Jenny?”

“Only for work, and I’m not supposed to give that out,” she said with a little giggle.

“Maybe I’d have to call there and ask about deliveries or something,” the smoker continued. Honestly, the guy was pathetic.

“Well, okay,” she conceded with a smile. She tore a corner off one of the fake forms and wrote the Philadelphia area code 215, followed by seven random numbers. Mr. Powell would get a wrong number. She handed it to him with another giggle, and then said, “I’ve really got to get going.” She gave him a cute little wave as she got into the elevator, then heaved a sigh of relief after the doors closed. She knew it didn’t do to alienate anybody. While she hoped she would never be so desperate that she might need to go to that guy, she wanted to leave him with a positive impression.

She was back at the fast food place in a few minutes. As she passed Jay, he held out the backpack and she took it and went into the rest room again. A few minutes later, she came out with her hair down and some bright lipstick on, wearing her jeans and shirt. She sat down with Jay and chatted for a few minutes, and then they took the bus back home.

*          *          *          *          *

As more and more people turned to the Movement, the Government pressed harder and harder against its citizens, somehow hoping that stricter laws would retain the people’s loyalty. Unsurprisingly, the opposite occurred, and with every new crackdown, there was an increase of enlistments in the Movement. Eliza’s full time job became record keeping, recording names, addresses, ages, personal contacts, and job assignments. Headquarters had sent her a tablet for that purpose, and at the end of every day she backed it up on two flash drives. One stayed in Andy’s house, carefully hidden in a kitchen drawer, and Marcy took the other one to Grammy Nell’s, where Tony kept it until the next day. Nobody was taking any chances on losing their records.

In keeping with the stricter laws, the government had recently changed the format for IDs, and John was scrambling to create new ones for everybody. It was frustrating to have to do that now, when they all hoped they wouldn’t need fake IDs in the near future, but without an ID, they couldn’t even buy food. Alex said that the priority was to do them for the people who were least likely to be recognized in the city, so Gil and Peggy were now Paul and Nicole Charles, names that worked in either French or English. Katie got a new birth certificate as Katherine Louise Charles. Jack was Greg Johnson, Joe was Caleb Smith, and Liz was Anne Ward. They all grumbled about have to learn new names and new backstories, but it was routine, as was the grumbling. It was Peggy’s third alias in three years, and she longed to just be Peggy Schuyler Motier for the rest of her life.

As soon as Gil and Joe’s new IDs were completed, Alex gave them a list of building materials that they needed to get Andy’s shed repaired so they could use it as storage. The crates of weapons and ammunition that Zach and Jake had brought from Headquarters were stored in Grammy Nell’s living room and shed, as well as Andy’s basement, but Alex and Tony didn’t want explosives kept inside the houses. Gil and Joe were going to go to two or three building supply stores to get shingles, lumber, and nails to fix the leaky roof and the broken door. They’d try to get small quantities at each store so as not to arouse suspicion. It was tedious and time-consuming, but safer. There were more Greater patrols out and more random checks being conducted as King felt his tight control slipping, so they would be as unobtrusive as possible. Their IDs designated them as Hopes, so they dressed in decent but slightly shabby jeans and shirts, and took the SUV so they would have room for the lumber. As usual, they had guns in the console lockbox. The key looked like a decorative fob on the zipper of Gil’s hoodie.

It was sunny and dry, so they went out early, hoping to get the work started and maybe even finished that afternoon. At the first store, Joe got half the quantity of shingles and nails that they needed with no difficulty. Gil went into the second store and gave the clerk the lumber order that Tony had written down for him. It took a while to put it together, so he stood by the counter, leaning against it casually, but keeping his eye on the door. Once the wood was loaded into the back of the SUV, Joe steered out of the parking lot and onto the busy street toward their last stop. They’d gone about a mile when Joe saw the flashing lights in the rear view mirror.

“Shit,” he said, pulling over carefully.

“It’s okay,” Gil told him. “Probably a routine check. We’ve got all our docs.”

Joe nodded, a little pale, but calm. He rolled down the window.

The Greater was wearing the usual sunglasses and broad-brimmed hat that made it impossible to see most of his face, but he was pale and had a wispy blond mustache. His name tag said Cuthbert. The elaborate, tacky gold braid on his uniform sparkled in the sun. It was so ridiculous that Gil had to look away so he wouldn’t smile.

“License, registration, insurance, and ID,” Cuthbert demanded.

Joe handed them out. Tony kept sets of documents in everyone’s names for the cars, so the registration and insurance indicated that the vehicle belonged to Caleb Smith. Cuthbert looked at the papers and handed everything but the IDs back to Joe.

“Out of the car, both of you,” he said.

That could mean something or nothing, Gil knew. Usually a routine check was just harassment, a way of reminding you that you were constantly being watched. Occasionally the Greaters might take it up a level and make things more difficult, but he had faith that their IDs would stand up to scrutiny. They both got out of the car and stood politely in front of it as Cuthbert indicated. They continued standing while he motioned to two others in his vehicle, and the three of them searched the SUV. Gil knew there was nothing in it except the guns that they could object to, and the guns were concealed in a lockbox that looked like part of the console. There was almost no chance that they would find them. Even so, this seemed like it might be more than a routine stop. He glanced over at Joe, who was looking calm, but Gil could see a film of sweat on his upper lip. Joe raised his eyebrow questioningly, and Gil responded with a slight shake of the head. He didn’t know what was going on either.

The wispy-mustached Greater came back and looked at Joe.

“Why are you buying building materials?” he asked.

“I have a small leak in my roof,” Joe answered. “I want to repair it.”

“You need two by fours for that?”

“The leaking water caused some rot in a couple of the ceiling joists, so I want to reinforce them.”

Good for Joe, Gil thought. He was right on top of it.

“Are you a contractor?” Cuthbert asked.

“No,” Joe told him, “I’m just going to do the roof repair myself.”

Cuthbert went back and talked to the other two for a while.

“What the _fuck?”_ Joe muttered under his breath.

“No idea,” Gil replied in a whisper, “but you’re doing good.”

Cuthbert returned, the other two close behind.

“What’s your name?” he asked Joe, although he had both their IDs in his hand.

“Caleb Smith,” Joe told him.

He turned to Gil. “How about you?”

“Paul Charles,” Gil said, pronouncing the name in English.

“You sure?”

Gil frowned, looking puzzled. “Yes,” he said.

Cuthbert took a step closer. “You’re sure your name is Paul Charles?”

“Of course,” Gil replied, outwardly calm, but frantically trying to think of what might be wrong with the ID.

“Where are you from?”

“Philadelphia.” That was what the ID said.

“You’re sure about that?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, is there a problem?” Be careful, he told himself. Stay calm, be polite.

Cuthbert leaned in even closer, studying Gil’s face. “You sure you’re not from France?” he asked.

“France?” Gil repeated with what he hoped was a puzzled frown rather than a look of panic. “Oh, do you mean I have an accent? My mother was from Québec, and I spent most of my childhood there. We always spoke French at home, and people tell me I still have a little bit of an accent.”

“But you were born in Philadelphia?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’re a citizen?”

“Yes, sir.” Now Gil was really starting to worry. It couldn’t just be his accent that was causing this. He had only spoken a few words, not enough for anyone to distinguish what kind of accent he had. His response had been intended as a diversion tactic, but it wasn’t working.

The three Greaters closed in a little more. At the same time, two more Greater cars pulled up, one facing in each direction.

_Fuck. This was serious._

Three Greaters got out of each of the newly arrived cars. Nine. They couldn’t take out nine even if they could get to their guns, which they couldn’t.

_What if Peggy never knew what happened to him?_

The nine officers made a circle around Gil and Joe and pulled out their guns.

“Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette,” Cuthbert said, his pronunciation awful, “You’re under arrest for sedition.”

*          *          *          *          *

“So now we know her name is Sally Burr,” Maria said, “so she’s almost got to be Aaron Burr’s sister.”

“Could be a cousin,” Jay pointed out.

“Sure, maybe,” Maria agreed, “but one or the other, and somebody he’s fairly close to because she was there pretty often.”

“And she handled the packages,” Jay reminded her. “That’s the important thing.”

“You think this Aaron guy and Jimmy’s ex were stealing things from the Customs office?”

“I don’t know,” Jay said. “I kind of doubt it. I mean, if they were, they weren’t doing much business. Man, can you imagine if I had a job like that? We’d be living on a beach somewhere.”

“I know, right?” Maria gave him a big smile as if she believed him. “So what do you think they were doing?”

“I think probably a few things they took at work, a little black market. That’s what the old lady was doing, but none of them were in it big time. I mean, it turned out we didn’t get much.”

“True,” Maria said, sounding disgusted. “I really thought we were onto something there.”

“We were,” Jay told her. “There was probably more in the house, but we couldn’t stay and look.”

“I’m telling you, Jay, it was just a couple of kids. We could have stayed.”

He yanked her arm. “You want to tell me how to do things? Those kids were knocking at the door. For all we know, their parents were with them. We’re lucky we shut her up and got out.”

“I guess,” Maria agreed reluctantly.

“Hey,” Jay said, pulling her arm again, his fingers pressing into her flesh. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Okay, okay, cut it out. You’re hurting me.”

He let go of her arm and pushed her away so that she stumbled and had to grab the table to keep her balance. Jay laughed. “Be careful, baby,” he smiled.

She kept her mouth shut and went to get a cup of coffee. Sadie had bought them some coffee the other day, just because they were friends, she said. Those were the kinds of friends that Maria wanted to keep.

*          *          *          *          *

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Gil said, feeling his heart pounding and hoping no one else could hear it.

They ignored him. They took the SUV keys from Joe, then put him and Gil in separate cars, while one of the Greaters drove the SUV. Gil stared straight ahead, silent and unmoving, his hands cuffed behind his back. How had they identified him? He wasn’t known in Philadelphia. Sadie Shippen didn’t know who he was. He had a much lower profile in the Movement that Alex or Tony or TJ. It took him a few minutes more to realize that they didn’t seem to know who Joe was. Nobody had challenged his Caleb Smith identity, so this was something just about him, not about the Movement in general.

He made a decision to continue swearing he was Paul Charles, son of a French-Canadian mother and a Philadelphia father, following the backstory Alex had concocted. He worked as an independent consultant in language education. After the First Insurrection – he would have to remember just to call it the Insurrection – his business had fallen off, since not many people had extra money for language lessons, and he was struggling financially, just making ends meet. It was a typical story of hundreds of thousands of Hopes who were just making it and who were probably going to be Deplos in a couple of years. He would have to convince them.

He tried to slow his breathing, rehearsing in his mind what he would say. He would be confused, concerned, but not angry. Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette was absolutely furious, but Paul Charles wasn’t going to show anger.

He was hoping to have a chance to talk to Joe once they stopped, but no such luck. They arrived at the palatial Greater station and he was pulled out of the car and marched into what he supposed was an interrogation room. It had a battered table with four equally battered chairs, and one of those big windows that was certainly a two-way mirror.

Cuthbert pushed him into a chair and walked out, leaving him alone. His shoulders were starting to hurt from having his hands cuffed behind his back.

All right, that was irrelevant. Everything was irrelevant except getting out of here and getting home to Peggy and Katie. He tried to think of every question they could possibly ask him and be sure he had an answer prepared. The time passed, and he couldn’t think of any more questions. It was getting harder to disregard the pain in his shoulders and he needed to use the bathroom. He knew perfectly well that leaving him alone like this was a tactic of intimidation, getting him to the point where he would be so grateful for a drink of water or a chance to empty his bladder that he would cooperate. They didn’t know him, though. He would endure whatever he had to endure to get what he wanted.

He reviewed his questions again, and then occupied his mind with silently reciting dosages of medications, naming all the bones in the body, the cranial and spinal nerves, the major and minor veins and arteries, the muscles with their origins and insertions. When he finished that, he worked his way through poems he had studied in school: "l’Albatros," "Le Pont Mirabeau," and then finally, although he had tried not to think of it, "Mon Rêve Familier." _She loves me and understands me, and my heart is transparent only for her._

Stop, he told himself. This is what they want. They’ll come back and you’ll be sitting here crying like a five-year-old.

He had just started on the multiplication tables in both French and English when the door opened. It wasn’t Cuthbert, but an older officer, with even more ridiculous gold braid, without a hat or sunglasses. His name tag identified him as Warner.

“Sorry it took so long,” he said, taking a seat across the table from Gil.

Gil didn’t respond.

“They tell me you’re this Lafayette fellow,” Warner went on with a fake-friendly smile.

Gil remained silent.

Warner looked annoyed at not getting the reaction he had expected.

“So?” he asked.

Gil raised his eyebrows. “So?”

“So are you?”

Gil sighed, as if he were being patient with a slow child. “If you are asking me if I am Lafayette, no, of course I am not. Officer Cuthbert saw my identification. I am Paul Charles. Please let’s not waste any more time, yours or mine, on this nonsense.”

Warner tried hard not to show any surprise, but this was not what he was used to. According to his experience, this guy should be on the verge of a breakdown by now, in severe pain, hungry, thirsty, and in urgent need of a bathroom. Instead, he was irritated, but calm and cool. He wasn’t yelling or ranting or crying, all things Warner could deal with easily.

Still, he persevered. “I don’t see it as wasting time. I have reliable information that you are Lafayette, and we know that Lafayette is involved with seditionists.”

“In that case,” Gil said calmly, “will you please get Judge Shippen on the phone right away? I’m sure he will be able to straighten this matter out.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What in the world does Gil have up his sleeve?  
> I really can't even give you any hints here, so just hang on.  
> Things will still be slow for a while. Life should be back to normal(ish) by mid-February, and I'll be posting more regularly. I'll do my absolute best to post at least a chapter a week between now and then, but please be patient if I can't quite make it. Stuff is going on in my IRL verse.  
> Thanks so much for the kudos and comments. I love, love, LOVE hearing from you. It's always so interesting to get your impressions of the characters and where the story is going. Thanks for the amazing and continued support of my very first fanfic! I love you guys!!


	47. You're Free to Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria and Jay go out to dinner with Sadie and Jimmy. Peggy waits. Gil lies, then tells a very important truth.

By early afternoon, Peggy had started to worry. At around two o’clock, Tony came over and conferred with Alex. Now the sun was going down, and they were around the kitchen table, along with Eliza and Ben. John was at the stove trying to make some soup, and Herc had all the kids in the family room, reading them King Arthur stories. Herc did the voices better than anyone else.

Peggy was crying, and Eliza was trying to get her to drink some tea.

“I can’t,” she said. “I don’t think I can swallow.”

“Just a little,” Eliza coaxed. “There’s sugar in it.” Tony had brought the last of their sugar over to help them get through whatever they were going to have to get through.

Peggy took a tiny sip and looked at her sister. “Eliza, what will I do?” she whispered.

“Don’t go there, Peg,” Eliza told her, holding her hand. “It’s early yet.” She turned to Ben. “Can you go get Marcy, please?”

Ben went into the family room and brought Marcy back. She was the only one of the kids old enough to understand what was going on, and she was pale and serious. Eliza whispered something to her, and she nodded, then left the room. A few minutes later, Peggy heard the front door close, but it barely registered.

John put a bowl of soup in front of her. “Come on, sis,” he whispered. “You didn’t eat any lunch.” He knelt down on the floor in front of her and fed her a spoonful of the soup as if she were Katie’s age. She swallowed obediently, and he fed her a little bit more, and then she gave way again. She reached out and put her hand on John’s cheek.

“Do you remember the last time you did that? The last time you fed me?”

He remembered, and his heart broke for her. He remembered that week in Gil’s New York apartment after Alex had to tell Peggy that her parents were dead. He had fed her spoonfuls of soup then too. He set the spoon on the table and put his arms around her, and she cried on his shoulder.

Tony had already called Headquarters in case they had heard anything. Gil knew a number to call in case of real emergency, but that would mean he had access to a phone, which was unlikely. He hadn’t called. Alex talked to Dr. Barron for a while, just kicking ideas around. It was hard to know where to start looking for two men and an SUV in a city of four million. Alex had contacted Roger and Andy, and there were runners now going throughout their networks trying to find information.

Peggy looked up at Eliza. “We have to let the kids eat dinner.”

Eliza nodded and went to talk to Herc. She came back around the same time Angelica walked in the back door with Marcy. She and Eliza took charge of Peggy, while John and Herc made sure the kids had dinner. Alex and Tony put some soup in mugs and brought them into the family room. Burr and Desi brought Teddie in to say hello to her. Peggy cuddled the baby for a few minutes, feeling her soft warmth and inhaling her sweet baby smell. Teddie stirred against her and made a funny little baby sound, and the tears dripped from Peggy’s face. What if she and Gil never got to have a baby? Desi, her own eyes full, reached out and wiped Peggy’s cheeks with a corner of Teddie’s soft blanket. Peggy handed Teddie back to her, and Desi understood. She kissed Peggy gently on the cheek and took Teddie into their room.

Burr turned to Tony. “You’ll let us know?”

“Of course.”

“Listen,” Alex said, “as of now, we know nothing. There’s been nothing on any communication channel. Headquarters is monitoring all of them. Did you know Maddie’s at Headquarters now? The General says she’s the best on technology he’s ever seen. She’s checking every system through every back door she can find.”

Peggy nodded. She knew they were all trying to help.

“Remember how worried you were when we were late from the medical supplies mission?” Alex asked.

“This isn’t like that,” Peggy said. “We knew you’d be gone for a few days on that. This was supposed to be a couple of hours.”

“There’s no reason either Gil or Joe would be picked up,” Tony said. “Their faces aren’t known, and they’ve got good ID. Liz used her new ID yesterday to buy food, and it was fine. It could be something as simple as the car breaking down miles away from here.”

Peggy knew that wasn’t it. Gil would have walked home rather than let her worry like this, even if it was ten miles, or twenty. Tony didn’t understand.

She tried to tell him. “You don’t – he’d find a way. He’d get word to me if it was humanly possible. He’s locked up somewhere or he’s unconscious or he’s dead.”

* * * * *

Sadie was getting her nails done, and Maria was patiently doing the cute nail art that she had requested, white flowers and silver polka dots on hot pink.

“You got a date tonight?” Maria asked with a knowing smile.

“Yeah,” Sadie giggled. “I’m going out with Jimmy again.”

“Mm, this getting serious?” Maria inquired as she added another tiny silver dot to Sadie’s left thumbnail.

Sadie giggled again. “Maybe. I don’t know yet. What are you and Jay doing tonight?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Maria told her. “Probably just watching a movie.” As if she and Jimmy could afford to go out five nights a week like Sadie did. She looked a little disappointed.

“You should come with us!” Sadie suggested, like it was a brilliant idea.

Maria looked a little sad, but not too sad. She had to get it right. “Well,” she said, drawing the word out, “where are you going?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe Glass or Cross’s, if he got reservations.” Of course she had named two restaurants where dinner was easily over a hundred dollars a person.

Maria shook her head. “Hey, you know, those places are kind of out of our league,” she said.

“Oh, right, right, what was I thinking?”

Every single fucking time, Sadie was astonished that Maria and Jay didn’t have the kind of money she and Jimmy did. Did she have any idea how much people made at actual jobs? Probably not, since she had never worked a day in her life.

Sadie thought for a while, then had another brilliant idea. “How about if you guys come with us anyway? My treat!”

That was better. Maria put on a sweet show of not wanting Sadie to spend so much money on them, but allowed herself to be persuaded. Sadie called Jimmy to tell him to make reservations for four. It was fine with him. Like Sadie, he really enjoyed Jay and Maria’s company. It never occurred to him that every word out of their mouths was spoken in either agreement or admiration.

Just before Sadie left, she confided one more thing in Maria. “You know that French guy that I found the picture of in the Columbia paper? The one with the weird name? Well, I reported him. I figured that if he was hanging around with Alex Hamilton and John Laurens, he was a bad guy. I went right to the police station with that picture and reported him myself. I haven’t even told my dad yet, but he’ll be proud of me.”

Sadie gave Maria a hug and went out the door, never seeing the rage on Maria’s face or hearing her mutter, “Fucking bitch.”

Jay was every bit as furious as Maria at having another possible source of income yanked out from under them. If they could have found the French guy first and threatened him with exposure, who knows how much they could have gotten? Jay blamed Maria for not heading Sadie off, but Maria told him she’d done the best she could. That led to another fight, but Jay calmed down in time to meet Jimmy and Sadie for dinner at Meteor. It might not be up there with Glass in terms of fancy restaurants, but it was better than any place they’d ever been to before.

Maria had a good black dress that she’d saved up for a year ago. She added the one really nice necklace that they’d gotten from the old lady and hadn’t sold. She was pretty sure it was real diamonds, but she told Jimmy she’d had it appraised and it was CZs. If she ever needed to get out, she could sell it. She liked wearing it, though. With her hair and make-up done right, she was sure everybody in the restaurant thought she was a Have.

Jay wore his one and only suit, a shiny gray one that Maria had told when he got it was too flashy. His tie was purple and gray striped, and he wore the gray fedora until they got inside. Maria had had it with the fedora. Jay was so sure it was just retro enough to be classy; she thought he looked stupid. Besides, it made him noticeable, and that wasn’t something they ever wanted. She’d tried to reason with him about it on several occasions, but the last time had resulted in a split lip, so she had shut up about the fedora.

Jimmy and Sadie ordered drinks and then they all looked over the menu. Maria had no idea what most of the dishes were. She recognized things like shrimp or potatoes, but in between there were all these fancy words that might be in French or something. She pretended she couldn’t make up her mind until Sadie announced she’d have the coquilles St. Jacques with grilled asparagus, then said, “Oh, that sounds good! I’ll have the same thing.”

Sadie smiled at having her good judgment recognized, and Maria hoped she wasn’t going to have to eat liver or something. Jay ordered steak, as always, but asked Jimmy to suggest a wine and made sure to tell him how excellent it was. Maria watched people at surrounding tables as unobtrusively as she could to see what they were doing. She knew you could learn a lot just by watching how rich people behaved. When their meal came – mercifully, not liver, but scallops, which weren’t her favorite but were okay – she made sure to take little bites and to keep smiling and chatting throughout the meal. Jay was concentrating on his steak, so she kept trying to include him in the conversation. It was a lot of work; she was better at small talk than he was, so she launched into a funny story about a salon client, being careful not to use the word salon. If anybody was listening, maybe they’d think she was a lawyer. She had just gotten into it, when Sadie’s phone rang and she pulled it out of her purse. She looked at the screen and rolled her eyes.

“Everything okay?” Maria asked her.

“Oh, yeah, it’s just my dad. I don’t feel like talking to him now, so I’ll call him back later.”

Maria put on her friendly concerned look. “Things all right with you and your dad?”

Sadie wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, he’s just always on me about where I am, who I’m with, that stuff.”

Maria kept smiling, but she knew why Sadie didn’t want to talk to her father right then. Maria Lewis and Jay Reynolds weren’t the sort of people Judge Shippen wanted his daughter hanging out with.

* * * * *

“Judge Shippen?” Warner repeated in astonishment. “You want me to call Judge Shippen?”

“If you please,” Gil said, allowing a little impatience to show in his voice. “I’m a friend of the family.”

Warner was caught off guard. First of all, the judge probably didn’t have too many friends who weren’t Haves. This guy was a Hope, and not a very prosperous one. On the other hand, if he actually was a friend of the Shippens, he’d already been held here for about six hours under duress. Mild duress, sure, but if Judge Shippen found out a friend of his had been sitting here cuffed without food or water for most of the day, it was not going to look good.

“Let me see if I can get an open line,” he stalled. “In the meantime, would you like some coffee or some water? Do you need to use the rest room?”

Gil almost laughed. What kind of law enforcement was it when just dropping a name could change his treatment completely?

“Coffee would be good, thank you,” he said, icily polite. “And yes, I’d like to use the rest room, but the handcuffs will cause a problem.”

Warner went to the door and called in another officer, a young guy named McCall. Then he removed Gil’s handcuffs. The pain in his shoulders and arms was excruciating as he moved, but he didn’t allow it to show on his face. McCall walked him to the bathroom, and when they got back to the interrogation room, Warner was gone. Gil decided to see if he could get some information.

“Where is my friend Caleb Smith who was brought in with me?” he asked.

“He’s in another room,” McCall told him.

“Has he been offered something to drink?”

“Yeah, sure.”

That was probably a lie, so he wasn’t going to learn anything from McCall. He sat silently, his hands under the table, as he clenched and unclenched them to get the circulation going. He knew that he could easily take out McCall, even with his aching arms, but he had no idea how to get out of the building from here, and there were undoubtedly plenty of other Greaters around. For now, he’d wait. If this risky strategy didn’t work, maybe he’d have to fight his way out, but he knew his chances of survival would be slim. Above all, his goal was to get home to Peggy alive. If he couldn’t be with her, nothing else mattered, not even his life.

He rehearsed what he would say to the judge. Like the Shippen girls, he had grown up in a life of money and privilege. However much he might scorn it now, he knew the attitude, and he knew the language.

It was nearly an hour before Warner came back to the interrogation room with the promised coffee and sent McCall out. Gil had even spurned the opportunity to drink water from his hand at the rest room sink because McCall was watching him. He’d go without before he’d let them see he needed anything. The coffee was good. There was no sugar or milk, but it was liquid. He sipped it slowly, not knowing how long it would be until he got another drink. He was hungry, too, but he knew he could manage without food.

“Judge Shippen was at dinner,” Warner said. “We’ll call him back in a little while.”

Gil inclined his head and drank a little more coffee. The judge would have had his dinner. That was good; he’d be in a better mood. With a little luck, maybe he would have had wine with dinner. Dinner also meant that it was late in the day. There were no windows in the interrogation room, and he’d had no way of measuring the passing of time. Peggy would be frantic by now. He kept his eyes lowered and thought of her, trying to find a way to send her strength. _If I believed in prayer,_ he thought, _this would be a good time for it._ No prayers, just a message that might somehow make its way to her through the currents of the universe. _I love you. For you alone my heart is transparent._

Alex and Tony would be on it, he knew. They would have contacted Headquarters by now, and maybe the General knew something. As King’s power fractured, spies within the government, spies like Burr and Desi, communicated with the Movement. Maybe even now, bribes were changing hands, messages were being sent. Maybe Peggy knew more than he did right at this moment. He held onto that, the idea that Peggy was filled with hope, that she expected to see him soon.

He anticipated that Warner would ask him more questions, but he didn’t, so they continued to sit in silence. If Warner was waiting for Gil to ask him anything, hell would freeze over first. There was plenty he wanted to know, but silence let him keep the upper hand. He took a good look at Warner with his ridiculously ornate uniform. He was shifting position every few minutes. Maybe he was a little uneasy. Good.

In fact, Warner was not happy being stuck here with this cold, silent prisoner whose only emotion appeared to be disdain. He could handle fear and pleading or anger and bluster easily. This icy calm was something he wasn’t used to. He had begun to think that Cuthbert had been wrong in his identification. True, this guy looked like Lafayette, but he also looked like the picture on his ID that said he was Paul Charles, and his ID checked out. If he really was a friend of the Shippens, the chief was going to have Cuthbert’s head on a silver platter by tomorrow. Warner was glad he hadn’t been the one who’d made the identification from the store security camera. He was relieved when McCall finally came back.

“Judge Shippen is on the line,” McCall said to Gil. “He’ll talk to you now.”

* * * * *

Marcy came into the family room and went to Peggy. She reached out and took her hand. “I’ll put Katie to bed,” she said. “If it’s okay with you, she can have a sleepover in our room. She and Polly have been asking.”

Peggy pulled her down for a hug. “Thank you, sweetie. I don’t want her to be upset until we know.” Her voice caught on the last word. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Marcy told her. “We’re going to say prayers for Gil, all of us, the boys too.”

Peggy nodded, biting her lip. Prayers. Well, Gil wouldn’t mind. He’d know it was kindly meant. She kissed the top of Marcy’s head and let her go back to Katie and Polly.

Angelica and Eliza talked to Peggy while Alex and Tony kept working on their phones. The kids went to bed, and John and Herc and Ben came to sit in the family room with them. John sat on the floor right in front of Peggy, his head leaning on her knee, his hand up over his shoulder so she could hold onto it. _My unexpected brother,_ she thought. _I love him so much._ She loved them all, and she knew how much they loved her. She knew that no matter what, they were with her. They would take care of her and support her always. It was just that she couldn’t see a way forward at all without Gil.

At about ten o’clock, Becky Jenkins knocked on the door. Alex answered and brought her into the family room to tell them all what she had found out. The network of runners had sent a report back: at around ten o’clock that morning, a black SUV had been stopped by a Greater patrol near one of the stores that Gil and Joe had planned to visit. Two other Greater cars had pulled up, and the occupants of the car had been taken away. Descriptions were vague, and nobody had gotten the plate number of the SUV, but it sounded as if it could be them.

Eliza gave Becky a hug and sent her home. Peggy didn’t even ask any questions. What did it mean if the Greaters had taken him in? She already knew he wasn’t safe. Alex tried to talk to her.

“Peggy, we’re going to do our best to get somebody into the police station nearest to where that pick up was. Becky sent Sam to get Roger Stayner. If anybody knows the right person, he will.”

“Okay,” Peggy said. She was almost too tired to talk.

“We’re working it out now,” Alex went on. “Somebody will go in to report something, check out the building. We can do smoke bombs if necessary. We have to clear it with Headquarters is all.”

Peggy nodded and leaned her head on Angelica’s shoulder.

“You should try to sleep,” Eliza said to her.

Peggy just looked at her. She felt as if Eliza were suggesting she should fly or speak Greek or something equally impossible.

“I could give you something,” Ben said gently. “Just to help a little.”

Peggy shook her head. “I want to stay up,” she told them.

Angelica put her arm around her shoulders and pulled her in. “Just rest there for a few minutes,” she whispered.

 _I can’t close my eyes,_ Peggy thought. _I can’t sleep until I know._ She looked down at her hands and kept folding the hem of her tee shirt back and forth while Alex and Tony did everything they could think of to save Gil’s life. If that was still possible.

* * * * *

Gil got up and followed McCall into the corridor. Warner walked behind him. As discreetly as possible, he checked his surroundings. Windows on his left were barred and showed only dark rectangles. He wondered what time it was. The wall on his right had a few doors. Nothing to indicate where the nearest exit was. They turned right at the end of the corridor into another hallway with doors on both sides. McCall opened one of them and a female Greater was seated at a desk. She looked up and said into the phone, “You can get the judge now.” A minute or two later, she said, “Good evening, Judge Shippen. Thank you so much for agreeing to cooperate with this rather odd request.”

She handed Gil the phone. His shoulders still hurt, but he took it and sat down casually on a corner of the desk. Warner shifted uncomfortably again.

“Judge Shippen?” Gil said courteously. “This is Paul Charles. It’s very good of you to talk to me. I want you to know how much I appreciate it. I’m a friend of Sadie’s. She told me once that if I ever got in trouble I should call you and tell you that she can vouch for me.”

“And are you in trouble now?” the judge asked.

“Well, I hope not,” Gil responded. “I was stopped by a patrol car this morning because apparently I look like someone named Lafayette.”

“Lafayette? You mean the French Marquis?” Judge Shippen inquired sharply.

“I think so,” Gil told him. “I’m not quite sure. Would you like to talk to Officer Warner?”

“Lieutenant!” Warner hissed.

“Sorry, Lieutenant Warner.”

“In a minute,” the judge said. “Somebody thought you were Lafayette?”

“That seems to be the case, sir, even though I had my ID. I’m sure if you ask Sadie, she’ll remember me from Columbia. I was also studying design, and we had several classes together.” This was pure fiction, of course, but he was betting that Sadie would think she remembered him if he just supplied enough details that made it sound like he knew her. “She was good friends with another friend of mine, Hercules Mulligan,” he went on.

“Yes, of course, Sadie spoke of him often,” Judge Shippen said. “So what seems to be the problem now?”

“Well, sir, I’m still here at the police station. My friend and I were separated, and I don’t know where he is. The police have not been exactly forthcoming, and they still seem to think I’m Lafayette. They said they were arresting him for sedition.”

“Oh, Jesus,” the judge snapped. “Let me talk to that lieutenant.”

Gil politely handed Warner the phone. He couldn’t hear the judge’s end of the conversation, but Warner looked more and more distressed as the judge spoke.

“Yes, sir,” he said, sweat breaking out on his forehead. “Yes, sir. I wasn’t aware of that, sir. Yes, I can see how that might be a problem, sir. Of course, sir. Yes, we’ll take care of it. Yes, absolutely. Immediately, sir.” He gave the phone back to Gil and walked out of the room.

“Thank you for speaking with him, sir,” Gil said politely.

“You’re more than welcome,” the judge told him. “In fact, you may have done me a favor.”

“Sir?”

“Well,” Judge Shippen replied, “you’re either Sadie’s college friend Paul Charles, in which case there is no reason to hold you, or you are the Marquis de Lafayette, a French national. Our relationship with France is a bit strained right now, and because of that, they are showing some sympathy for this insurrectionist Movement. The last thing we need to do is encourage that by arresting a member of their aristocracy. Frankly, I suspect the Marquis de Lafayette went back to France long ago because there’s no reason in the world for him to stay in this country.”

“I’m sure you’re right, sir,” Gil agreed.

“So if you’re not him, you’re this guy Sadie went to college with. I tried to call her a few minutes ago, but she didn’t pick up, so I really can’t verify it now, but I can’t understand at all what these bozos were doing arresting you – and your friend, you say? – when you had a perfectly valid ID. There is no reason for them to detain a citizen just going about his business.”

“Thank you very much, sir,” Gil said.

“Oh, and if by any chance you are the Marquis de Lafayette,” the judge continued, chuckling, “please accept my apologies on behalf of the government. We have only the highest respect for France and the French.”

Gil laughed at the joke. “Well, I’m very glad to hear that.”

“I don’t think you’ll have any more trouble,” Judge Shippen said, “and I’ll be calling the Chief of that precinct in the morning.”

“Thank you very much for your help, sir,” Gil told him, “and please give Sadie my best. Tell her I’ll be seeing her shortly.”

“I’ll do that,” the Judge responded warmly. “You sound like a very nice young man. I hope we get to meet in person soon.”

“As do I, sir,” Gil replied. “Again, thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome, Paul. I look forward to seeing you. Good night.”

“Good night, sir.”

Gil handed the phone back to the female officer just as Warner returned with Joe. It took every ounce of Gil’s self-control not to show his relief, but he had to finish the act.

“You all right, Caleb?" he asked.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Joe said, but his voice was rough.

Warner looked nervously at Gil. “Listen, I’m sorry for the mix-up,” he began.

“Mix-up?” Gil queried. “There was no mix-up. I have a perfectly valid ID. You should, in fact, be very thankful that I am not the Marquis de Lafayette, because if I had been, you might have caused an international incident.”

Joe’s eyelid flickered at that, but only Gil saw it.

“Yes, the judge did mention that,” Warner said, “but you’re okay, right? No harm done?”

“No harm done? You think that sitting for six hours in handcuffs with no food or water is no harm done?” He gave Warner his most arrogant attitude. “I won’t discuss it any further, though, because I’m sure it’s one of the things the judge will bring up when he speaks with your chief in the morning.”

Warner looked sick.

“Is our car ready?” Gil asked, as if Warner was the valet.

“Yes, it’s, uh … I’ll walk you to it.”

Warner accompanied them to the exit, where the SUV had been brought for them. Warner even put out his hand in contrition, but it was all Gil could do not to spit on it.

They got into the car, Joe driving, and left the parking lot. Joe went a few blocks and pulled over.

“Sorry,” he gasped, “I have to catch my breath. I thought we’d had it.”

Gil dropped his head into his hands, shaking, his heart pounding. Maybe this was what an anxiety attack felt like.

“What the hell did you do?” Joe asked.

“Lied, mostly,” Gil told him, his heart still feeling like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest.

Joe gave an unsteady laugh. “As long as it worked.”

Gil tried to rub his sore shoulders with his shaking hands. “Let’s go home,” he said.

* * * * *

Roger Stayner had arrived and was conferring with Alex and Tony about how to get a man into the Greater precinct building when they heard the SUV pull into the driveway. Peggy was at the back door before anyone could get hold of her, and when she saw the car, she hurtled across the yard and into Gil’s arms. It was Joe who ended up telling the story while John got them food. Eliza slipped upstairs to wake Marcy as she had promised, and then told Desi and Burr who were trying to get some sleep between Teddie’s feedings.

“Were you cuffed the whole time?” Alex asked.

“No,” Joe told him. “That was Gil. They just kept sending different guys in, asking me the same questions over and over.”

Ben looked at Gil, who was on the couch eating soup, Peggy pressed tightly against him. “How long were you cuffed, Gil?” he asked with some concern.

“About six hours, my best guess,” Gil said.

“Back or front?”

“Back.”

“How do your shoulders feel?”

“Hurt like hell.” Gil swallowed some more soup.

Ben snorted. “When were you going to mention it?”

Gil closed his eyes and kissed Peggy’s hair. “Not a priority,” he said.

Ben gave him a look and got his medical kit. “Ibuprofen, moderate to severe muscle injury, adult?” he asked.

He got a faint smile in response. “Five hundred to eight hundred milligrams, every six hours, not to exceed thirty-two hundred milligrams per day.”

Ben handed him four pills, and Gil swallowed them with a sip of honey-sweetened tea. John had saved most of the honey, declaring it “emergency rations.” This qualified as an emergency.

Alex went back to debriefing Joe. “What questions were they asking?”

“Mostly about how I knew Gil, where I’d met him, why we were buying building materials.” He smiled. “Thanks for the backstory,” he said to Alex. “Without it, I would have had to make stuff up on the spot, and I could never have done it. So I met Gil at a pick-up basketball game a year or so ago, and we started hanging out. Impossible to check, and plausible enough to be true.”

Alex nodded in satisfaction. He made sure that everybody’s backstories were water-tight.

“The thing was,” Joe went on, “they kept telling me that Gil had admitted that he was Lafayette.”

“Typical Greater tactic,” Tony muttered in disgust. “You didn’t believe them, though.”

“Of course not,” Joe said. “I mean, it’s Gil. If he was being interrogated, there were only two possibilities.”

Gil raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Which were?”

Joe grinned. “Either you’d sit there stone silent, or you’d tell them to go fuck themselves.”

“Even under duress?” Alex asked Joe quietly, although he was looking at Gil.

“Fuck, yeah,” Joe said. “ _Especially_ under duress.”

Gil smiled faintly. He was really too tired to talk.

“How did you do it?” Alex asked him.

“I talked to Judge Shippen,” Gil explained. “I think he wants me to date his daughter.” He looked around at their stunned faces. “Can I tell you the rest in the morning?” he asked. “Right now, I am very, very tired, and I would like to take my wife to bed.”

* * * * *

“Do your arms still hurt?” Peggy asked.

“Mm-hmm,” he murmured against her mouth. “Sh.” Pain, or no, his left hand held the back of her head as he kissed her slowly and softly, his tongue moving gently against hers as if he wanted to taste every part of her mouth. Peggy melted into it, pressing herself against him from mouth to knees, her fingers tangled in his curls, the softness of her breasts molded by the hardness of his chest. She slid a leg over his hip and pushed in tighter, because there was only one way to get closer to him. She rubbed against him, felt him, reached down and took him in her hand, her fingers moving and caressing. He made an inarticulate sound, then ran his right hand down her back and pulled her under him as she spread her legs wide for him. His thumb opened her, and he found her wet and ready. His mouth still hadn’t released hers, and she felt more than heard him say, “I need you.” He moved his thumb inside her, outlining her, exploring her, then out and circling, just a little pressure. She whimpered and lifted her hips, needing him as he needed her. He slid in easily with a caught breath, and her eyes went wide.

“You didn’t ... you forgot …” she said.

 _“Non,”_ he declared, his voice taut as he moved inside her. _“C'est fini, cette tyrannie._ Fuck them.”

She gasped as he pushed harder, and then, as she realized the implications, began to laugh with joy. He joined her, and they came together, laughing and crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a while, not only because my writing time has been slashed by real life, but because it was a bit hard to coordinate. Hope it turned out okay.  
> I have been dropping a few hints about something very important, but nobody seems to have picked up on it yet. Another hint in this chapter. I'll keep going until it becomes obvious.  
> Still scrambling for writing time, but that should ease up in another week or so. Of course I'll find a few minutes or hours here and there, and do my best to make sure you don't have to wait too long for the next chapter.  
> I love hearing from my readers -- thanks to all of you for the kudos and comments. Let me know what you think. Lots of XOXOXO to you all.


	48. Wait for It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben Arnold is back in town. Alex becomes General Hamilton and takes command. Peggy learns to shoot. Maria and Jay want reward money. Everyone writes letters. Symbols of love return, and love cannot be killed or swept aside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience, and I hope you think this chapter was worth the wait. It's the "quotiest" chapter so far, I think, with lots of references to the show, and some slightly paraphrased sentences from the Federalist Papers No. 9, written by Alexander Hamilton.
> 
> Because Valentine's Day is in a few days, and because this fic is getting very, very angsty over the next few chapters, I'm posting a new work today, "From the Side of the Ballroom," a Valentine's Day one shot which is total Peggy and Gil fluff. If you are enjoying Provoke Outrage, and have become attached to the Peggy and Gil pairing as I have, I think you'll like it. If you do, please let me know, and maybe I can do a few more.

“Well, well,” Alex said, reading a message from Headquarters. “You’ll never guess who’s back in town.”

John looked up from his ID-forging paperwork. “Go ahead and tell us.”

“Ben Arnold, accompanied by his lovely wife Meg.”

“Great,” Herc commented. “Another one of the Shippen sisters.”

“Maybe that’s the one the judge wanted to hook me up with,” Gil suggested.

“Nope,” Herc told him. “Sadie’s the only one who’s not married, and I’m sure the judge wants to get her off his hands.”

“Yeah, well,” Gil said, turning back to his _Sabiston Textbook of Surgery_ , “as it happens I’m already married, and even if I weren’t, I wouldn’t take one of the Shippen girls if she came with a million dollars and a promise of eternal life.”

“Man,” Herc said, “eternity with Sadie Shippen would be my definition of hell.”

“Anyway,” Alex put in, “you already have a million dollars.”

“Shut up,” Gil told him, pulling a pencil out of his hair and scribbling something in the margin of his book.

“Seriously, though,” John said, “What do you think Ben Arnold is up to?”

“That’s what they’re wondering at Headquarters,” Alex responded. “The Arnolds are staying in Philly at the moment, visiting the judge. Dr. Barron wants us to keep an ear out and see if there’s any gossip. Gil, are you sure you wouldn’t consider dating Sadie Shippen? It would be helpful.”

“Fuck off, Alexander,” Gil said, not even looking up.

Alex sighed. “Herc?”

“I’d enlist in the Greaters first,” Herc retorted. “I’d cut off my right arm first. I’d …”

“Okay, okay, never mind. It would just be really useful if we could get someone close to the Shippen family so we’d have a channel to Arnold.”

John sat up straight, a wicked smile on his face. “How about Maria Lewis?” he suggested. “There was a time when she found you quite attractive.”

Alex grabbed the nearest thing he could put his hand on, which happened, fortunately, to be a sofa pillow, and threw it at John. John threw it back, so Alex picked up a random shoe that had been left on the floor and pitched that across the room. John caught it and ran to the couch where he used it to whack Alex on the head, laughing. Alex tried to grab the shoe, overbalanced, and fell off the couch onto John, who was still laughing. Alex gave up fighting and started tickling him, going for John’s most sensitive spot, his ribs. John kicked and squirmed, and the two of them rolled around on the floor laughing and yelling and calling each other names.

Eliza walked in and stood looking at them, hands on hips. “I swear I just got out of a time machine,” she said, “because this is Alex and John’s apartment six years ago.”

“You can play too,” Alex offered, out of breath, but still trying to pin John.

“Maybe later,” Eliza responded with a meaningful look, “but Peggy and I are actually trying to do some reading with the kids in the kitchen, and Katie and Polly are way too interested in your vocabulary.”

“Oh, shit,” Alex said.

“Fuck,” John muttered.

“Exactly,” Eliza pointed out.

Alex sat up, his hair, which had grown back in a couple of inches, sticking up in all directions, and his face flushed. “Do we have to be grown-ups all the time?” he asked.

He looked absolutely adorable, but Eliza maintained her composure. “I’m afraid so. Don’t you have some military stuff to do?”

“Actually, yes,” Alex said, shoving his hair off his forehead. “We’re going to need a meeting this afternoon. Can you send Marcy to tell Tony it will be at two o’clock?”

At two o’clock, the members of both squads were gathered in the family room. Marcy had been sent to sit in Grammy Nell’s old house in case a runner showed up there in an emergency. Harry was on stand-by to run to her if need be, and he was taking this first quasi-assignment very seriously. Eleven wasn’t too young to start learning the networks, and he had started following Marcy, Becky, and Sam on minor errands.

Katie, Polly, and James had to be in the room with the adults since Alex had made it clear that this was a mandatory meeting for everyone. For the moment, they were on the floor back in the corner coloring peacefully, but there was no guarantee that would last. No matter where they all were, Peggy thought to herself, there was never enough seating. Even in the large family room, half of the adults were on the floor with the kids. She leaned down to Gil, who was sitting in front of the couch, his head on her knee. “When we get our house, we need lots of couches and chairs.”

He nodded in agreement. “ _Bien sûr, chérie_. Maybe you should make a list.”

She wondered if he was teasing her. They were about to go out and fight a war in the streets, and she was thinking about furniture. It was a way to stay sane, though. Focusing on their future life made it more real. If she could hang onto the future, maybe the present wouldn’t be so scary. She would start the list today.

Alex had taken the seat at the desk, of course, with Tony in a chair beside him. Everybody else was just scattered around, although Desi got the best chair. Eliza had ceded comfy-chair priority to the new mother. Teddie was already more than a month old, wide-eyed and alert, looking at lights and movement and just starting to smile at people. As usual, John and Eliza were talking to her, trying to coax her into a response. She stared at John intently, and then her little face puckered and she began to wail.

“Nice job, John,” Eliza commented. “You scared her.”

“What?” John objected, insulted. “She likes me.”

“She just ate,” Desi told them. “Maybe it’s gas.” She put her crying daughter up to her shoulder and began patting her back.

Burr, who was sitting on the floor next to Gil, looked over at his baby girl and his face twisted. “Every time she cries, it breaks my heart,” he said softly. “I know that’s not reasonable, but I can’t help it.”

Gil smiled. “I think it’s perfectly reasonable. You love her very much, and you don’t want her to ever be unhappy. I understand that.”

Burr gave him a grateful glance. “Yeah. I want to give her a safe world.”

“Okay, listen up, guys,” Alex began. “This is an important meeting. Tony and I have been briefed by Headquarters, and we’ve discussed all of this already. Basically, today, we’re going to give you our decisions and the plan for Dolphin.”

That was serious. There was a plan in place. That meant that Alex would be giving them a date and a time that the fight was going to start. It was suddenly very real, and Peggy’s stomach felt unsettled. She tried to concentrate on what she wanted the big house to be like, because she already knew what her role in Dolphin was going to be. Having been designated a noncombatant to care for Katie nearly three years ago, she was now going to be the one looking after all the children, from Marcy down to baby Teddie, while the Second Insurrection was going on. The parents or guardians of all the children – John, Burr, Desi, and Gil – would all be in the streets, fighting for a free government. She would be responsible for keeping the children safe.

“First,” Alex continued, “General Akhdir has required that all of us who have more than two years’ experience in the Movement to have ranks. It may sound silly to us now, but there are thousands of people now involved in the Movement, and we need to have a clear chain of command. General Akhdir will hold the rank with five stars and will be designated the Continental Commander. Tony and I have each been commissioned as Brigadier Generals – that’s one-star, the lowest rank for general officers, so don’t be too impressed.”

“Fuck, you’re a general?” John asked, astonished.

“Yeah,” Alex responded, visibly annoyed. “Did you think we were just playing soldiers?”

“No, sir,” John replied, and nobody was sure if he was serious or mocking.

Tony took over the meeting. “General Akhdir has allowed us to rank and assign our own members. This wasn’t always easy, and we had to look carefully at everyone’s strengths and responsibilities. We’re working with a very small pool of leaders, so we’re all going to be carrying responsibilities that we may not feel ready for. Based on intelligence that we have received, Alex and I will be responsible for commanding somewhere between three thousand and five thousand fighters each.”

There were gasps around the room. They had known the Movement was growing, but not that much.

“The reality may be that there are many more who will join in,” Tony went on. “Those numbers are considered minimum. You can see how important it is that we have a command structure in place, so we don’t end up with mob rule. We want to take out specific targets, not just break windows. If we set something on fire, there has to be a reason for it. The last thing we want to do is burn cities down.”

They all agreed with that. This was a fight that had to be fought, but nobody wanted random violence and collateral damage. All over the country, in every city, groups like theirs were meeting. Very few of the battles would be fought in open fields. The majority would be in the cities, where the potential for catastrophe was high.

Alex picked the discussion back up. “Tony and I will each have two colonels who report directly to us. I can’t stress enough that you keep in mind who your reporting officer is. It’s going to be hard enough to stay on top of everything that’s going on; if the right people aren’t getting the right information, we’ll never be able to manage. John and Angelica will be serving as my colonels. Tony’s will be Jack and Molly. Major Hercules Mulligan will report to Colonel Schuyler, and Major Gilbert Motier will report to Colonel Laurens.” He turned to Tony and nodded.

“You’re all aware that my squad underwent a shake-up a while back,” Tony said, “and Joe and Liz have not been with us for two years. However, because they previously were involved in intelligence work in the New York area, headquarters has okayed their being ranked here as well. Major Joseph Lawrence will report to Colonel Hays, and Major Elizabeth Burgin will report to Colonel Sullivan.”

“Finally,” Alex picked up, “that leaves the people who are in what we might call ‘special categories.’ Eliza, you will have the rank of major, but your duty assignment is going to be clerical.”

“What?” Eliza asked angrily.

“Look, I know you’re as good with a gun or on the street as anybody here,” Alex told her, “but you’ve seen over the past few weeks the record keeping that now has to be done. The reality is, there’s enough of that to keep two or three people busy, but anybody who’s going to work in information has to be somebody we know we can trust. We can’t bring in new people for communication work. We’ve got to keep track of people, supplies, information coming in from Headquarters and going back to them.”

Eliza nodded, not happy, but understanding the situation.

“Ben,” Tony said, “You will also have the rank of major, but you’re in a category by yourself. You’re senior medical officer, so technically you have no one to report to, but you can go to anyone as needed. You’ll also have to verify all patient information and make sure it gets to Eliza. Gil, when you do medical work, you’ll report to Ben, same as I said to him about patient information. Right now, we’ve got you on record as doing field work, but depending on how things go, we may pull you in and have you work here.”

Peggy tried not to hope for that. She knew what Tony was saying: Gil would be needed at the house if there were more wounded than Ben could handle, so that wouldn’t be a good thing, but the thought of Gil out fighting was almost unbearable.

“Peggy,” Alex said, “we didn’t know quite what to do with you, since the Movement makes no provision for child care. Officially, you will have the rank of Captain, and also officially, you will be a medical assistant. It was the best we could do.”

Peggy smiled. “I’m good with bumped heads and skinned knees,” she said.

“We’re also going to have one more person coming in,” Tony added. “Roger Stayner has been working with us for a while now. He’ll officially be assigned to my unit, with the rank of captain, and he’ll report to Joe. He’s in charge of community liaison, which he has already been doing. Desi, Burr, you guys are too new to be ranked, but I’m going to ask that you report to Roger, because you’re also from the community, and you can be helpful there.”

“Understood,” Burr agreed.

Alex opened the top desk drawer and pulled out a box. “We actually have insignia here,” he told them. “Please take this seriously, guys. Wear your insignia on your sleeve or on your collar at all times. You’ve got to get into the habit of doing it now so that when the time comes, it will be automatic. We’re going to be out on the streets, and people are going to be looking to us to lead. We have to be ready to do that.”

There were dark circles under Alex’s eyes, and his face was showing the strain. He had been working toward this for more than five years. In only a few more weeks, the insurrection would be over.

* * * * *

“My dad is a pain in the butt,” Sadie complained.

“Why?” Maria asked, taking another bite of pizza. They were at Jimmy’s house and he had ordered pizza, much to Maria’s annoyance. She liked it better when he took them all out to a nice restaurant or a club.

Sadie rolled her eyes. “There’s this guy from college that he wants me to see.”

“What do you mean, ‘see’?” Jimmy asked, frowning.

“I don’t know,” Sadie said impatiently. “This guy called him? Like talked about me? My dad says he sounded like a real gentleman.” Another eye roll.

“Well, who is he?” Jay asked. Connections were connections. You never knew when they might be useful.

“His name is, um, Paul. Paul Charles, I think. Honestly, I don’t really remember him. How come we didn’t get pepperoni?”

“I don’t like pepperoni,” Jimmy told her.

“Oh, right, right. I forgot.”

 _Jesus,_ Maria thought, glancing at Jay. _No wonder Sadie doesn’t remember the guy from college._ It probably wasn’t even worth pursuing, but Jay persevered. “So was this a guy you dated or what?”

“No, I’m sure I didn’t date him,” Sadie responded, chewing thoughtfully, “but he was a friend of Hercules, my dad said.”

“So he hung around with the Alex Hamilton crowd?” Maria prompted.

Sadie’s eyes widened. “Oh, gosh, I didn’t even think of that. Yeah, I guess he did.”

“And he just called your dad out of the blue?” Maria went on. “That’s kind of weird.”

“No, he was in some sort of trouble at the police station,” Sadie said. “He told my dad that I had said to call him if he was ever in trouble.”

“Did you tell him that?” Jay asked.

“I don’t remember,” Sadie shrugged. “Probably. My dad’s a judge, you know, so he can get people out of trouble. It’s nice that he can help my friends.”

“Yeah, it’s really nice of your dad to do that,” Maria said with a smile. “I’ll keep it in mind if I ever get arrested.”

“Oh, you!” Sadie laughed. “You’ll never get arrested. You’re too nice.”

Maria noticed that Sadie didn’t extend any offer about calling if she needed help. Maybe the judge only assisted people who were Haves like his own family. She decided to change the subject. “So are your sister and her husband getting settled in? Did they find a place?”

“No,” Sadie responded, sipping her drink. “They’re going to stay with us for a while.” She didn’t look as if she was too happy about that.

“That must be kind of strange, like going back to when you were kids, right?” Maria asked.

“Not really,” Sadie told her. “We didn’t have pain-in-the-ass Ben Arnold around when we were kids.”

“Wasn’t he like an ambassador or something?”

“Something, I guess. Now he’s either on his phone or yelling at people. He had a big fight with my dad the other night.” She shook her head. “I don’t even understand what he’s talking about half the time, all this government stuff. He wants to get a job down in the capital.”

“Didn’t he work for President Washington?” Jimmy asked

“Yeah, but then he didn’t like him anymore. I think he likes President King now. At least, that’s who he wants to work for.”

“Really?” Jimmy queried. “Good luck with that.”

“What do you mean?” Jay wanted to know.

“I don’t think President King is hiring any new people. Let’s just say he knows who his friends are. What the hell, who wants to talk about politics anyway? Who needs another drink?”

“Me.” Sadie said. “I want another lemon drop martini.”

“Maria? Jay?”

They both shook their heads and watched with relief as Sadie followed Jimmy into the kitchen.

“My God, that girl is stupid,” Jay muttered. “I’d like to know who this Paul is, though, and what he was in trouble for. Never hurts to know people.”

“Honestly, I don’t think Sadie really has any idea who he is,” Maria said. “I don’t think it’s even worth trying to find out.”

“It’s hard getting any straight information out of her, that’s for sure. What do you think about her brother-in-law? It sounds like he might have an in with the government.”

“Sounds more to me like the government doesn’t want anything to do with him. Let’s just forget about it. Maybe we can find out if Jimmy’s interested in where Desi might be. I bet we could find her.”

Jay really didn’t want to let anything go. “There’s no reason why we can’t keep an eye on other things too,” he said.

Maria nodded, but really, sometimes Jay just made her tired. Jimmy was still pretty mad at Desi, so maybe he’d be grateful to find out where she was. Or maybe Desi would be grateful for them not to tell Jimmy where she was. That situation had a lot of possibilities, but there didn’t seem to be any angle with this Paul guy that could benefit them, and she really didn’t want to get mixed up with Ben Arnold. She’d keep her mouth shut if Jay wanted to pursue those ideas though. No point in pissing him off if she didn’t have to.

When Jimmy and Sadie came back in, Sadie was looking a little unfocused, as if she had had a couple more lemon drops out in the kitchen. She was carrying another one now, and she sat down next to Maria.

“This is really good,” she said. “You sure you don’t want another one?”

Maria had already had one, and Sadie was right, they were good, but she wanted to stay clear-headed. This might be purely a social occasion for Sadie, but Maria and Jay were there for business.

“No, thanks, I’m good,” Maria smiled. She looked around the room. “You got some new furniture, didn’t you, Jimmy? It’s nice.”

Jimmy leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, well, I had to. Desi stole almost all my stuff.”

“That wasn’t right,” Sadie said solemnly, shaking her head. “Desi’s a bish – bitch.”

“You tell her, baby,” Jimmy agreed.

“It really is a shame that she would do that,” Maria said.

“Too bad you can’t just go to her place and get it back,” Jay said. “I could help you, you know.”

“Only thing is, nobody knows where she went,” Jimmy pointed out.

“Did you call her family?” Maria asked.

“No family,” Jimmy told her. “Her dad died a long time ago, and then her mom got cancer when Desi was in high school. Kind of sad.”

“Wow, yeah. No brothers or sisters?”

“Nope. I called a couple of her friends, but nobody knew anything. Looks like she just went off with the new boyfriend. Probably in California or someplace like that now.”

“I bet she’s still around here,” Jay commented. “She wouldn’t haul all your furniture to California. If she took the stuff out of this house, I bet she stayed right here in Philly.”

Jimmy looked thoughtful. “You know, you’re probably right. You serious about helping me get my stuff back?” he asked.

“Sure,” Jay told him. “Like Sadie said, it wasn’t right what she did to you. She had another guy living here in your house.”

“Damn straight,” Jimmy said. “That guy Burr. You think you could find him?”

“Fuck, yeah,” Jay responded. “I know people. I can find him.”

Maria made sure she turned away before she rolled her eyes.

* * * * *

Gil and Ben were turning the family room into a trauma center while Alex, John, and Angelica handed out the guns. The shipment from Headquarters provided new weapons for everyone.

They each got a handgun, even Peggy. She sat staring at it without enthusiasm.

“I thought I was a noncombatant,” she said.

“You are,” Alex told her, “But you need to know how to use the gun.”

Peggy didn’t answer, but kept her eyes on Alex’s face. He took a breath and opened his mouth, but it was John who spoke first.

“You’re going to be here with the kids, Peggy,” he said. He put his hand on hers. “Whatever happens, you need to protect them.”

She felt her stomach flip over. She knew what John meant. If there was no one else, she would be the last defense between six children and whatever horrors King’s fighters might inflict.

She looked at John and nodded, her face composed. “I guess I’d better learn to shoot it, then,” she said.

Everyone else got a rifle as well, but they had all learned how to shoot long ago. Alex had to figure out a way for Peggy to become proficient with her new gun without anyone hearing the shots.

“Is Headquarters supplying everybody with new weapons?” Herc asked.

“As far as I know,” Alex said. “There’s no reason why we would get them if all the other units didn’t.”

“Looks like somebody’s backing the General financially, then,” Herc commented.

“I think that’s a fair conclusion,” Alex agreed noncommittally.

John looked up with a faint smile. "I hear we have friends in France."

Alex tried not to smile back. "I wouldn't know. That's above my pay grade."

“Fuck, you’ve got a pay grade?” John asked with a grin. “When did we start getting paid?”

“Maybe we’ll get retroactive pay at some point,” Angelica suggested.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Alex told her. “We’ve never been in this for the money.”

“That’s for sure,” Herc agreed.

“We’re in it for the future,” Desi said. “For our kids, and our kids’ kids. For Teddie and Katie and Polly and all of them. If we have to, we’ll bleed and fight for them.” Her face was set and determined.

“If we get this right,” Burr added, “if we lay a strong enough foundation, we can give them a better world.”

There was silence in the room for a minute and then John said with a smile, “Imagine what those kids will be like if they grow up in a free nation. My God, they’ll blow us all away!”

Peggy blinked the tears out of her eyes. I’ll learn to shoot the damn gun, she told herself, and I swear to God if anyone puts these kids in danger, I will shoot to kill.

Everything was changing. Everyone had their handguns in holsters and wore insignia now, even though it seemed strange. The family room was off limits for anything but medical care, and Gil and Ben were running simulations for treatment of various injuries. Peggy was having the kids practice intruder drills, making sure even Katie knew how to lock doors and stay silent. She hated making them even think about the “bad guys” who might be out there.

“Remember when the bad guy hurt Uncle John?” Katie asked.

“Mm-hm,” Peggy responded, refraining from asking which time Katie was referring to.

“But Uncle John’s okay now, because Tonton fixed him.”

“That’s right,” Peggy agreed.

“So if the bad guys hurt us, Tonton can fix us,” Katie went on.

Somehow, Peggy kept her voice steady, “Well, yes,” she agreed, “but it would be better if you didn’t get hurt, so that’s why we practice being very, very quiet.”

It was a game to all the kids except Marcy and maybe Harry. Marcy said to Peggy one day, “If something happens, and you can’t get Teddie, I will. Don’t worry.”

Peggy knew she was saying, _If you’re dead, I’ll save the baby._ She knew exactly what that meant. That afternoon, she sat Marcy down and told her about racing out of the house on her mother’s command, with Katie wrapped in her blanket, about the cold damp night on the ledge, about getting the fake ID and taking the bus to New York, all the time absolutely terrified. But she had saved her sister.

“If you have to, you can do it too,” she told Marcy.

“You were so brave,” Marcy said.

Peggy smiled a little. “I was so scared. You know what Alex says courage is?”

“What?”

“It’s when you’re scared to death, and you do the right thing anyway.” She put her arm around Marcy and pulled her in. “I don’t doubt for a moment that no matter how scared you are, you’ll do the right thing.”

“I promise I’ll try,” Marcy said, and put her head on Peggy’s shoulder.

“I love you, girl,” Peggy told her.

“Love you too,” Marcy responded. There was a long silence. “You know what?”

“What?”

“I remember my mom saying she loved me when I was real little, but my dad never said it.”

Peggy held her tight. “I’m sorry that he didn’t. We all love you a lot, though.”

Marcy nodded against her shoulder and sniffed. “John says it all the time,” she said, and Peggy could hear the smile in her voice.

“John’s the best,” she agreed.

Marcy nodded again. “I know. John says you’re his sister because you gave him your blood that time, but can I be your sister even if I don’t have any of your blood?”

“You can absolutely be my sister. We’re all family.”

* * * * *

“Don’t you think Sally Burr goes to see her brother?” Jay asked. “I mean, she used to see him a lot when he was living at Jimmy’s house.”

“Maybe she does,” Maria said, “but it’s not like we can watch her apartment day and night. Even if she does go see him, how would we know?”

“Yeah, but we can watch it some of the time,” Jay persisted. “Sooner or later, she’ll go out, and we can follow her. Eventually, she’s going to meet up with her brother.” He said it triumphantly, as if it was a great plan. Maria understood that if they didn’t have a twenty-four hour watch on Sally, it might take years before they happened to catch her going to visit her brother.

“What about if we try going at it from the other end,” she suggested. “We know Desi and Burr were hanging out with Alex Hamilton’s guys. Where’s he likely to be?”

Jay hooted at that. “Oh, yeah, right, the Greaters have been trying to get their hands on Alex Hamilton for five years, but we’re going to find him in no time. That’ll be easy.”

“Yeah, but we know things the Greaters don’t know,” she reminded him.

“What do you mean?”

“First,” Maria said, counting off on her fingers, “we know the old lady was bartering and selling stuff on the black market. Second, Sally Burr was taking things to her and bringing things back to Desi, so they must have been buying or selling. Third, Sally’s brother and Desi have gotten involved with Alex Hamilton and the Movement.”

Jay stared at her. “And?”

“Well, since the old lady isn’t doing any more buying and selling, who might have taken over her business? Especially if they need money to finance some sort of revolution or whatever the hell they’re doing.”

“You think Alex Hamilton is selling jewelry and teapots for people?” Jay asked skeptically.

“No, not him personally,” Maria explained, “but somebody in his organization. Don’t you think people still have stuff to sell?”

“Yeah, I guess, but how would we find out?”

“This is what I was thinking. We go down to her house and knock on the door. If somebody new is living there, we talk to them. If nobody answers, we go talk to a neighbor. We tell them we have something to sell, and we heard there was a lady there who bought stuff. We ask where she is. Then we’re so sad to hear that she died, and after we get all that shit out of the way, just sort of hint around that we’d still like to sell the stuff and do they know who’s buying these days.”

“And you think they’ll send us to Hamilton or whoever he has assigned to black-market dealing?”

“I don’t know,” Maria told him impatiently. “It’s just a chance. If you think it’s that bad an idea, how about if I just go ask Sally Burr where her brother is?”

“Shut up,” Jay told her. “I’m just trying to figure out how it would work.”

“I don’t know,” Maria said again, “but it’s got a better chance of working than doing nothing. If you think you’ve got a hope in hell of getting to be friends with Ben Arnold, you’re nuts. If we can find out where Burr is, we can tell Jimmy so he can get his furniture back, or whatever he wants to do. And if they really are working with Alex Hamilton, we can tell Sadie’s dad. There’s a reward on Alex Hamilton, you know.”

Jay nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s get a plan together.”

* * * * *

Alex had two phones, a tablet, and a pile of silk maps on the table. “We’re luckier than most squads,” he said proudly, “because one of our squad members happens to be the Movement’s most accomplished forger.”

“Artist!” John corrected him.

“Whatever,” Alex conceded with a fond smile, “every single one of us will have a map. I’m giving them to you now. Keep them someplace safe. My advice is that you study them until you know every street name and every corner by heart, and then you sew them inside whatever you’ll be wearing. Oh, and that brings me to another point. Obviously, we don’t have uniforms, but Headquarters is suggesting that we wear a badge, or a cockade, or an armband …”

“Cockade?” Herc asked with a snicker.

“Study military history,” Alex snapped at him. “The color of the Movement is green, green for renewal and new growth, so if you can find some green cloth or ribbon, tie it where people can see it. Anything we do to promote solidarity can help.”

“Annie will be here tomorrow for Teddie’s and my six-week check-up,” Desi said. “She told me she was going to bring some green ribbon. Word is out.”

Marcy nodded. “Runners are trying to wear green as much as we can. Some of us are just sticking a leaf in our buttonholes.”

Alex beamed with approval. “You see? The Movement has become something not even the General could have foreseen a few months ago. At first, we thought Dolphin would be a first move. Now it’s looking very much like Dolphin will be the Second Insurrection itself. Originally, we planned that we would be blocking ports, but now we have orders to keep the ports open.”

“What the hell?” Angelica asked. “So Dolphin is not even what they said it was?”

Alex shook his head. “We’re not going to try to obstruct. We provoke outrage against King’s government, and we take over the city. We keep the roads safe and the ports open, but we take out the government. We’ll be attacking every Greater station and all city and local offices. We try to keep human casualties to a minimum. Prisoners will be taken and held here and here.” He pointed to two locations on a map. “That’s delegated to Tony’s squad, and Roger Stayner is going to be handling it. Once the local government is disabled, we take control of the city.”

There was silence as they all began to grasp the magnitude of what was about to occur.

“Jesus,” Gil breathed. “This is it, then.”

Peggy clutched his hand. This is what they had been working for. This is why she had spent the last week in the back yard with John, learning to handle a gun, while James and Harry and Marcy had made as much noise as possible to cover the sound of the shots. She wouldn’t win any prizes for marksmanship, but she could protect herself and the children if necessary.

“This is it,” Alex agreed, his jaw set. “This is where we go back to being a country of laws, not of tyranny. The regular distribution of power into distinct departments, with legislative balances and checks, courts composed of judges holding their offices during good behavior, the representation of the people in the legislature by deputies of their own election – these are the means by which an honest government will be retained. Everything we do now will save our children and grandchildren from having to live as we have lived under King. The sooner we bring him down, the sooner we have free elections so that the rule of law can be restored. We will fight and if necessary kill so that our children – all of our children – will be able to vote. We’ll do away with artificial distinctions among citizens, this nonsense of Haves, Hopes, and Deplos. We’ll all be citizens together with the same rights and privileges.” He looked across the room at them one by one. “Right now, most of us sitting here have no right to vote under King’s law’s – we’re the wrong color, or the wrong ethnicity, or the wrong gender or orientation. All that will change if the Second Insurrection succeeds. Teddie will vote, even though she’s a girl. My kids will vote, even though their father was an immigrant. Gil will be able to become a citizen, and he will vote. Katie will be able to vote, even though her birth certificate was lost somewhere in the insurrection. Will Jenkins will vote, even though he didn’t reach some arbitrary level of education. David Coleman and Hugh Mackey will vote, even though their families never owned property. This is what we fight for. This, if necessary, is what I’ll die for. I hope you’re all with me.”

He was breathing hard, and he swiped his hand over his face to clear the tears from his eyes.

“God, you’re relentless,” Angelica murmured.

He turned to her. “Fucking right I’m relentless. Five years, Angelica. Five. Fucking. Years. Years that we could have had, finishing college, starting jobs, starting families. Five years that we’ll never get back. King’s not getting another fucking minute of my life.”

John stood up. “I’m with you.”

One by one, they all stood, Peggy and Gil holding hands, Burr with his arm around Desi as she cradled Teddie, Marcy leaning against Eliza’s shoulder. John smiled and leaned forward to grab Alex’s hand. “Rise up!” he said. The words echoed around the room.

“One week,” Alex said. “The Second Insurrection begins a week from today.”

* * * * *

They spent the first few days of that week writing letters, strange as it seemed. “Tell your story,” Alex said. “If any of us don’t make it out, we have no control over who tells our story, so take the time to tell it yourself.”

Desi and Burr wrote to Teddie, of course, and Gil and Peggy to Katie, but then Gil also wrote to his cousin Julien in France. “Everyone in France should know why I did this,” he said. John wrote letters to all of his siblings, and wrote another one to Frank Marion, thanking him. “I was so emotional when we were there, I don’t know if I ever told him how grateful I was.” Herc wrote to his mother and to each of his five siblings. Marcy wrote a letter to Polly.

“Sweetie, you’re fourteen,” Eliza said to her. “You won’t be out in the battle.”

Marcy lifted her chin. “I’ll still be running if I’m needed,” she said. “I won’t hide.”

They all wrote letters to each other, pouring out years of friendship and love and loyalty. It was exhausting.

When they were done, Alex packed all the letters into a box. He pried up some floorboards in the attic and hid the box under them. “You all know where it is,” he said. “Whoever…” he hesitated and swallowed hard. “Whoever needs to, be sure they get to the right people.”

That evening, Desi sent Marcy to go get Angelica, and she joined them in the crowded living room, a little puzzled.

Burr stood up, looking a bit self-conscious. “You all know that Desi and I were doing our best to snag any bypass shipments that we could when we were still working. We passed all the things in those shipments on to Alex, who sent them to Headquarters. I understand that a few personal items have been returned to their rightful owners, and I can’t tell you how happy I am that we had a small part in that. Right before I stopped working, I pulled a bypass shipment and showed it to Alex. He said it shouldn’t be sent to Headquarters.”

Everyone except Desi looked puzzled. Burr turned to her. She was beaming, holding Teddie, who slept peacefully in her mother’s arms. Desi looked like herself again, a little tired, maybe, but as beautiful as ever, her braids wound with green ribbon now to show her support of the Movement. Her smile grew broad as she reached under her chair and pulled out a small box, which she gave to Burr. He opened it and started to speak, but choked and had to look down.

After a minute, he got control of himself and smiled, although there were tears on his cheeks.

“The Schuyler sisters,” he began, “have become iconic figures of courage and determination in the Movement. Despite losing both of their parents tragically, they have never wavered in their support of a free government. We all know that King’s people took over their home in Albany, and all of the property there, all their family belongings, were lost. They filed a report with Headquarters, as did others, describing items that they had every reason to believe had been confiscated.”

He stopped again and took the lid off the box. “Angelica, Eliza, Peggy, we have the lockets that your parents gave you.”

Peggy said later that she’d never cried that hard in her life. She cried for the loss of her parents all over again, for the joy of recovering one small bit of her childhood, and for the bond of love that she shared with her sisters. She held the locket in her hand tightly for a minute before she dared open it. It was too much to hope that the pictures of her parents would still be in it, and yet, there they were, and she sobbed against Gil’s shoulder because now he could see them for the first time. She could show Katie what her Mom and Dad looked like. They could have enlargements made to hang in their home someday. Then she had Gil fasten the chain on her neck so that she could wear it for a while. “It has forget-me-nots on it because they’re the flowers for September, my birthday month,” she said softly. Forget-me-nots, with pictures to keep the memory of her parents alive.

Eliza’s had poppies for August, with baby pictures of Angelica and Peggy. More pictures to keep. Angelica’s locket was engraved with primroses, the February flower. Inside was a lock of hair, a single curl.

“Mom’s?” Eliza asked.

Angelica nodded, biting her lip. She tried to thank Desi and Burr, but even Angelica wasn’t up to speaking.

“It’s okay,” Desi said softly as Angelica leaned over to hug her. “We’ll talk another time.”

Later, Peggy stood in front of the mirror in their bedroom, looking at her reflection. She was wearing jeans and a tee shirt, as usual, but the gold locket shone bright even in the semi-darkness. Gil came up behind her and put his arms around her. She leaned back and looked in the mirror at the two of them together, Gil tall and strong and, as always, breathtakingly handsome, herself smiling a little at his reflection because she loved him so much, her curls falling over her shoulder. If life had been normal, they would have had hundreds of pictures of them together by now, ordinary pictures of them laughing or eating pizza or dressed up for a date, engagement pictures, wedding pictures. King had robbed them and countless others of the joyful moments of ordinary life. Alex was right. They would not give King one more minute of their lives.

“Gil, _chéri,”_ she said, turning her head a little toward him.

“ _Oui?_ ” he murmured, kissing her.

“I’m pregnant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everybody is happy with that last sentence, although I doubt if it was much of a surprise.  
> Shots will be fired soon, and people will be in danger. Keep calm and listen to the Hamilton cast album whenever possible.  
> My schedule has returned to normal-hectic status rather than insane-hectic, so you won't have to wait so long for the next few updates. Plus, my Valentine to my own dear readers, "From the Side of the Ballroom," a few thousand words of the fluffiest Peggy and Gil fluff ever should be posted within the next hour. Love to all of you who love those two. <3 <3 <3  
> Thanks for staying with the story, and for leaving kudos and comments. You guys are the best.


	49. Past Patiently Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy and Gil share their news, and everybody is (mostly) happy. Tony's squad gets some unexpected visitors. A lot of things go on in the kitchen. The Second Insurrection begins.

She watched his face in the mirror, watched for the instant it took for him to realize what she had said, and then she was swept up, his mouth on hers, his arms lifting her off the floor.

 _“Ma chérie, mon coeur, que je t’aime, je t’aime, ma belle, ma vie.”_ The words poured out, and then he was kissing her again, and they were both laughing and crying.

He carried her to the bed and sat down with her on his lap, one arm around her, the other holding both her hands. “When?” he asked.

“January, sometime in the middle of January, I think.” She looked up at him, her eyes bright with tears and happiness. “I talked to Annie when she came to see Desi. She got me a pregnancy test.”

“Does anybody else know?”

She shook her head. “You first, _chéri._ ”

“Can we tell them now?” He was as eager as a child on Christmas.

“Maybe tomorrow? Angelica already left, and Herc and John are probably asleep.”

“Of course, _chérie, comme tu veux,_ I’m not thinking clearly.” He laughed and kissed her again, and then, very gently, placed his hand on her stomach. “There is our child,” he said softly. “My child and yours, part of each of us. This is more …” He broke off, his voice catching. “There were times when I thought … When I was arrested, handcuffed, when I knew there was very little chance of my getting back to you, I thought, if I die, there is nothing left of me. _Tu comprends, chérie?”_

She nodded. “That same day, I held Teddie,” she told him, “and I thought, what if Gil and I never get this? What if we never have a baby, and all the love we have for each other is just gone?”

“Yes,” he nodded, “of course you understand. Of course you felt the same thing.”

She was quiet for a minute, leaning against his shoulder. “Alex will tell us we’re wrong, you know.”

“Fuck Alex,” he said into her hair.

She laughed. “Sh, not in front of the baby.”

“Ah, I will have to mend my ways, and learn to behave with propriety,” he said, his accent very pronounced.

“No, just be you. If the baby learns some inappropriate words along the way, we’ll cope. Just – you’re who I love, Gil, and I never want you to be anyone else. In fact,” she added with a meaningful look, “some of the best times of my life have been when you behaved very improperly.”

That made him laugh, and he kissed her again, but slowly this time, one hand in her curls holding her head, the other sliding over her breasts and then around her waist. His mouth moved across her cheek and down her throat, and she lay back as he lifted her off his lap onto the bed, then stretched out beside her.

He helped her take off her clothes and got rid of his own, and he pulled her under him, covering her. He held his weight off her on his arms, but pressed his body tightly to hers, so that she could feel him from her mouth to her feet. He began to rub against her, and she felt how hard he was, and all she could think of was how good he would feel inside her. She tried to open her legs, but for a few seconds more he held her down, teasing her, sucking her nipples to excite her even more. Then he shifted his weight, making a sound somewhere between a laugh and a gasp, letting her move, and she spread herself as wide as she could for him. He continued to rub himself against her, delaying for both her and himself, until she was dripping wet and squirming under him, murmuring, "Please, _chéri_." He drew back one more time and slid in, engulfed by her soft, slippery, silky warmth. She pushed herself up to take in more of him, wrapping her legs around him, and he pulled back as slowly as he could, while his thumb found the hard knot just above where they joined. He began rubbing it gently as he pressed back into her, and she met him, letting out all her breath as she pushed. His thumb moved faster as he rocked back and forth, and her muscles tensed around him, tighter and tighter, trying to hold him in even as he kept moving. He pressed harder until she couldn’t control her body anymore, and she fell apart, shuddering and whimpering, her hips jerking against him. Her spasms pulsed around him, pulling him in, and the sounds she made pushed him over the edge, and he clung to her, holding her tight, part of her forever.

* * * * *

There were three days left before the Insurrection was to start when Angelica came over to talk to Alex about something. She ended up staying for lunch and, since everybody was there, Gil caught Peggy’s eye from across the room with a raised eyebrow. She nodded, smiling, so as they were all finishing their soup, he stood up.

Nobody paid any attention at first, so he continued to wait until John frowned and asked, “What are you doing?”

Gil’s smile lit up his face. “We have something to tell you,” he said. He held out his hand to Peggy and she stood next to him.

“Oh, God, that sounds way too familiar,” Alex muttered. “Now what?”

He was the only one who didn’t get it immediately. Gil never even got a chance to make the announcement. Eliza jumped up, her eyes on Peggy’s face, and managed to say, “Are you …?” before Peggy nodded and started crying, and then it was pandemonium, with everyone laughing and yelling and hugging. Alex pushed his chair back and walked around the table.

“I knew years ago you two were fucking nuts,” he said with a grin. He threw an arm around each of them and pulled them in. “I’m Uncle Alex, right?”

 _“Bien sûr,_ ” Gil agreed.

Alex stepped back, still smiling, but his eyes were a little troubled. He loved them and he was happy for them, but he thought they were wrong. This was no world to bring a child into.

Eliza promised to knit an entire layette for Baby Motier, and Angelica expressed a definite preference for a niece that she could take shopping. John and Herc thought a boy would be nice because, as John pointed out, they already had Katie and it was only fair.

While that discussion was going on, Peggy and Gil took a few minutes to talk to Katie. “I think we should just tell her she’ll be a big sister,” Peggy had said earlier. “It’s not technically correct, but telling her she’s going to be an aunt won’t make any sense to her because in her world aunts and uncles are grown-ups.”

“I think you’re right,” Gil had agreed. “We can just explain more as she gets older.”

Katie already had a pretty unconventional family, so they had no doubt she would be delighted to hear about the baby. They sat down on the floor with her and gave her a brief announcement.

“A baby in your tummy like Desi had?” she asked with interest, eyeing Peggy’s stomach.

“Mm-hm,” Peggy told her.

“Is it a boy baby or a girl baby?”

“We don’t know yet,” Gil said.

Katie didn’t understand that. Tonton and Tatie knew everything. “Why not?”

“Because we can’t see inside Tatie’s tummy,” Gil explained.

Katie thought about it for a while. “Because it’s dark in there?”

Gil somehow managed not to laugh. “Well, sort of.”

She didn’t seem to be completely satisfied with that, but she nodded. “I’m gonna tell Polly,” she said and went in search of her friend.

Peggy looked at Gil and burst out laughing. “Your face,” she giggled. “It’s dark in there?”

Gil put his head in his hands. “How long do you think it will be until she brings me a flashlight?” he asked.

That set Peggy off again, and everyone else looked at them with indulgence. _That’s just them,_ Angelica thought. _That’s Peggy and Gil. They’re just happy. They’re lucky._ But if she was honest with herself, she knew it wasn’t luck. Oh, it may have been lucky that they were attracted to one another back at the beginning, but it had lasted because they had both made a commitment to it. She and Alex and Eliza had thought that making that commitment was foolish at the time, that they didn’t know each other, that they were way too young, especially Peggy. And yet, here they were, and, still being honest, she had never known a couple more in love. _I couldn’t do that,_ she thought. _I couldn’t just dive in like that and say, ‘Okay, I’m going to be with this guy forever.’ That’s a level of trust that I’m not capable of. I’m four years older than Peggy, and I’m pretty sure I’ll never have the kind of relationship with anyone that she has with Gil. Am I missing out on something, or is she? I wish I knew how to be satisfied._

When she got back to Grammy Nell’s house, she told everybody the news, and there were lots of exclamations and good wishes. She could tell, though, that like Alex, Tony and Jack didn’t think it was a good idea. She felt a little unsettled and made herself a cup of tea. She had just sat down to drink it when there was a knock at the front door. Everybody was immediately alert. No one ever used the front door. Runners and Movement members used the back. Always. That meant that whoever was at the front door was someone they didn’t know.

Early on, they had rigged carefully camouflaged mirrors so that whoever was at the front door could be seen from an upstairs window. Tony jerked his thumb up at Joe, who dashed up the stairs as lightly as he could. The rest of them remained downstairs, Tony and Angelica in the kitchen, Liz in the living room, out of sight of the door, their guns ready. Jack was the one designated to answer the door. There was no alert out on him, and he wasn’t from the area. He waited for Tony’s nod, then went to the door, ruffling his hair and rubbing his eyes to give the appearance of having just woken up from a nap.

“Hi,” he said, none too friendly.

A woman’s voice spoke, “Oh, hi, sorry if we disturbed you. We’re looking for the lady who used to live here.”

“Yeah, she moved,” Jack said.

“She moved? Oh, um, gosh. That’s too bad. I didn’t …” the woman said. She hesitated for an instant, then added quickly, “She was such a sweet lady.”

Tony looked at Angelica, frowning. Something didn’t sound right.

A man spoke. “Do you know where she moved to?”

“Not really,” Jack responded, sounding a little irritated. “I think it was Ohio or something. Um, listen, not to be rude, but I work nights …”

“Yeah, sure,” the man went on. “We were just wondering, you know, if there was anybody else around here that we could do business with like we used to with her.”

“Business?” Jack asked.

What was going on? Did this couple have stolen goods to fence? If they had previously done business with Grammy Nell and wanted to keep doing it, why hadn’t they been here before now?

The man kept talking, and they heard the sound of a backpack being unzipped. Angelica cursed herself for not getting into a better position before Jack opened the door. She could see Jack in the doorway but couldn’t see either of the visitors. The only place anybody could get a shot at them would be from upstairs, either from the front bedroom window or the top of the stairs. She could only hope Joe was in position. They weren’t sounding dangerous at the moment, but they could easily have a grenade in that backpack.

“This is a pretty nice teapot,” the man said. “It’s silver.” And not a grenade, Angelica thought with relief.

“Yeah, I’m sure, but I can’t help you,” Jack told the guy. “Listen, I’ve got to get some sleep.”

“Of course.” It was the woman again. “We’re so sorry to have disturbed you. We’ve got to get going too.” It sounded like she was trying to hurry the guy away. “Thanks for being so patient,” she added, laying it on thick.

“Sure,” Jack said, and closed the door.

Nobody moved for at least five minutes, making sure there was time for the visitors to get away. Then Joe came down the stairs and looked at Tony. “You remember those pictures John showed us?” he asked. “Those people that had some kind of history with Alex and Desi?”

“Yeah,” Tony nodded.

“Two of them were just on our doorstep.”

“Go get Alex,” Tony told him, his face grim.

* * * * *

“Well, that was a complete waste of time,” Jay said, walking so fast Maria could barely keep up with him. “You said they’d know who was buying and selling, and all we got was some asshole who works night shift.”

“I never said for sure,” Maria objected. “I said maybe. You didn’t have any better ideas, did you? Because if you did, why the hell aren’t we living on a beach somewhere instead of trying to scrape by in this fucking town? We don’t even have a fucking car, so now we have to go stand at the fucking bus stop for an hour …”

He grabbed her arm and spun her so that her shoulder hit the fence along the sidewalk. “Shut the fuck up,” he snapped. “You want everybody in Philadelphia to hear you?”

“Get your hands off me,” she spat through her teeth.

Instead, he grabbed her by both shoulders and leaned in close. “Don’t you fucking tell me what I can do, you stupid cunt,” he said, inches from her face.

Maria closed her eyes. Talk back, get hit, and make her point, or back off, save herself a black eye, and let Jay think he’d won? If they hadn’t been on a public street, she’d take her chances and go for the first, but it was never good to attract attention. “Okay, okay,” she conceded, keeping her head down and her voice soft.

Jay snorted and let go of her. “That’s what I thought.”

I should sell that diamond necklace and leave town, she told herself for the hundredth time. I should just dump Jay’s sorry ass, and … who was she kidding? She and Jay had been together since high school, and she’d never had to manage on her own. She had to admit, too, that when things were going well, when she and Jay were working together, it was exciting. They’d run some pretty successful operations in the past, but things were bad all over now. Nobody had any money – well, nobody but a few Haves like Sadie and Jimmy.

She tucked her hand in Jay’s arm, and he gave her a smug smile. They still had a long walk to the bus stop. As they waited for the light to change at the corner of Castle Avenue, a guy drove past in a rather dusty Acura.

“Shit!” Jay said, dragging Maria around the corner with him. “That’s Aaron Burr.”

* * * * *

Alex and John both came back with Joe.

“You’re absolutely sure?” Alex asked for the tenth time.

“Yes,” Joe told him.

John had brought the pictures, and he laid them out on the table. “Those two,” Joe said.

Alex looked across the table at Tony. “Maria Lewis and Jay Reynolds.”

“So why did they come here?” Tony asked.

Alex shook his head, and then looked around. “Anybody got any ideas?”

Angelica spoke first. “Is it possible that they dealt with Grammy Nell in the past and actually wanted to sell the silver teapot?”

“Just barely, I suppose,” Alex said, “but it’s really hard to see this as a coincidence.”

“Yeah, but if it’s not a coincidence, what would they be looking for?” John asked.

Alex shook his head. He hated it when he didn’t understand something.

“You know,” Angelica said, “I was in the kitchen, so I couldn’t see them, but I heard them clearly. Something seemed off.”

Alex’s eyebrow went up. “Off?”

Angelica thought for a minute. “Like it was scripted. It didn’t sound natural.”

“If it’s any help,” Jack said, “I got the same impression. There was just a minute, though …”

“Yes,” Angelica agreed, “when she stumbled on her words. She really seemed surprised.”

“Surprised at what?”

“When I told her the lady who lived here before had moved,” Jack said.

Alex ran his hands through his hair. Did that mean something or nothing? Maybe they were just surprised that an old lady moved out of the house she’d lived in for fifty years.

John watched Alex’s face. He could almost see his mind working. “You think they knew she was dead?” he asked softly.

“I think we need to consider that possibility,” Alex admitted. He tapped a pencil on the table. “Even if they did, though …” He sighed and tapped some more. “Tony, what do you think?”

“We don’t have enough information, Alex,” Tony told him. “Whether they knew she was dead or not, they could just be looking for somebody to fence stuff. A darker possibility is that they’re working with Jimmy Prevost and maybe looking for Movement elements, maybe thinking that a black market dealer and fence would have a connection to the Movement. If so, though, they didn’t find anything except Jack, who did a great job being a grouchy night worker.”

“Yeah.” Alex’s face was still troubled. “I don’t like this. Maria would recognize me, and Reynolds would recognize Desi or Burr. We’ve got three more days. Let’s stay on lockdown.” He turned to John. “We okay for food?”

John nodded. “Better check with Desi, though, make sure they’ve got whatever they need for the baby.”

Alex stood up. “Can you guys lock down for the next three days?” he asked Tony.

“I think so. We good, Liz?”

“Yeah, we’re fine.”

Alex shoved his hair off his face again. “God, I’ll be glad when the waiting is over.”

* * * * *

Jay walked really fast, trying to keep the Acura in sight. Fortunately for him, the blocks were short, and there was a stop sign at every corner. He dragged Maria with him, and two blocks past Castle, the Acura turned right. Jay got around the corner just in time to see it turn into a driveway. Burr got out, unlocked a gate in the fence, then drove into the fenced back yard. He closed the fence and locked it behind the car and then neither he nor the car was visible.

“You think he lives there?” Maria asked.

“He had the key to the gate,” Jay said, barely able to contain his excitement.

Maria could feel her heart beating fast. “We should check if we can see anything.”

“Yeah, yeah, right,” Jay agreed. “We’re just going to cross the street and walk past one time. I don’t want to take a chance on him seeing me. We can’t walk too slow, just go by and see if there’s anything obvious.”

They did as he had said, passed the house on the other side of the street, but saw absolutely nothing.

“All the blinds are closed,” Maria said. “That’s suspicious right there.”

“Yeah,” Jay agreed. “That’s a pretty big house, you know? I bet Burr doesn’t live there alone.”

They were headed back to Castle where they would be able to get the bus.

“So what do you want to do?” Maria asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want to give Jimmy the address so he can go get his furniture?”

“Are you fucking stupid? Jimmy doesn’t care about the furniture.”

Maria took a minute, then realized what Jay meant. “Right,” she said. “It’s not about the furniture. It’s about getting back at Desi.”

“Duh, yeah.”

“What do you think he’s going to do?”

Jimmy shrugged. “None of my business.”

Maria didn’t like that. She had her limits, and after the old lady, Jay had told her that it would never happen again. “You think he would hurt her?” she asked.

“Like I said, none of my business.”

They had reached the bus stop and sat down on the concrete bench.

“Jay, you promised me.”

“What are you talking about?”

She knew he knew, but he wouldn’t admit it. She looked over her shoulder. There was no one around. “When you – you know, the old lady. You promised it would never happen again.”

“Babe, I’m not going to touch Jimmy’s ex.”

“Yeah, but if you tell him where she is, and he does something, that’s kind of the same thing.”

“Bullshit. That’s completely different. I am not responsible for what Jimmy does.”

“Yeah, you are if you set it up.”

“I’m not setting anything up. We’ll be miles away.” He put his arm around her and whispered in her ear. “How much you think Jimmy will give me for telling him the address? Where do you want to go? Jamaica? Bermuda?”

The beach, with sunshine sparkling on clear water, palm trees swaying, no dirt and pollution. It was what they had always talked about. Maybe this was their chance.

“Which one has the pink sand?” she asked.

Jay shrugged. “I don’t know. I never heard of pink sand.”

“Well, that’s the one I want to go to,” Maria said, her eyes bright. “I want to go to the beach with pink sand.”

* * * * *

Alex told everybody they were on official lockdown and why.

“It’s a good thing you went out and got diapers already,” Desi said to Burr with a grin.

Alex frowned. “You went out?”

“Yeah,” Burr said. “I just got back. We were low on diapers. I wasn’t gone more than twenty minutes.”

“No problem with your cards?”

“Of course not. John makes the best damned fake ID in the world. I just went a few blocks.” Burr was sounding a little defensive.

“You shouldn’t have gone. It should have been Peggy or Ben.” Alex chewed his lip.

“I thought about it, but Ben and Gil are knee deep in setting stuff up in the clinic, and Peggy was busy with the kids.”

“You could have sent Marcy.”

Burr sighed in exasperation. “Yeah, and I would have had to send a wagon with her. Have you seen how big the packs of diapers are? I was just in and out of the store. Didn’t talk to anybody. Nobody around here knows me.”

“Okay, okay, no harm done, I guess. We’re on lockdown now, though.”

“I got it.”

Burr and Desi went off to play with their baby, and John went back to teaching James and Harry to play chess. Alex sat in the kitchen staring at John’s sketches and tapping a pencil on the table. He didn’t like loose ends, and there were too many of them now. Pull on one and everything unravels, he thought. Maria Lewis and Jay Reynolds were loose ends. There was no reason for them to be in this neighborhood. It might be a coincidence, but he had to plan as if it was not. If he could make copies of the sketches, he could give them out and ensure all the Movement members knew to be on the lookout for those two. He remembered when getting copies was simple – you copied agendas for meetings, party invitations, “lost dog” flyers. Now you needed a copy license, and even then, you could only make ten copies. He’d never bothered getting a copy license or having John make one because it hadn’t been important. He should have thought ahead better.

He got up and paced the length of the kitchen a few times. Maybe it wasn’t important now either. The Insurrection was less than three days off, and they were all on edge. He stopped pacing for a minute, then climbed up on the small stepladder and started searching the upper cabinets. If there was sugar anywhere, that’s where John would have hidden it.

He was balancing on his toes on the top rung of the stepladder, stretching to reach into the farthest corner of the cabinet, feeling for something that might be a bag or box of sugar. It was over his head, so he couldn’t see what he was doing, but he felt a small cloth bag with his fingertips and tried to get a grip on it.

Directly behind his knees, someone coughed, and he spun around, losing his footing and only saving himself from falling by grabbing a swinging cabinet door. “You trying to kill me?” he yelled at Eliza, who stood there looking up at him with interest.

“No,” she said calmly. “It looks more to me like you might be trying to kill yourself. What in the world are you doing?”

Alex jumped down off the ladder and crossed his arms, giving a sulky little huff. “I thought there might be sugar,” he muttered, barely audible.

“I’m sorry, what?” Eliza asked. “Could you speak up, please?”

“I thought there might be sugar,” Alex repeated, completely mortified and looking at the floor. His ears were turning red, and it was all Eliza could do not to laugh.

She put her arms around him. “Alex, sweetheart, no sugar now. We’re all anxious, and now we’re on lockdown, and everybody is a little crazy. We should try to do something relaxing.”

“Okay,” he said, nuzzling her neck a little. Sometimes General Hamilton still acted like a cranky toddler. Then he kissed her right below her ear in a very un-toddlerlike way, and she stood very still while he found his way around to her mouth. His mouth could be so soft, she thought as he parted her lips with his tongue, so soft and slow and gentle, but then there were times when it was possessive and demanding, and it was all Alex. He backed her up to the table and pressed his leg between her knees, and her arms went around his neck, pulling him in. His hands slid under her shirt and up her back, and …

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Peggy said. “Were you going to use the table, or can I work on the kids’ maps?”

“Well, there goes the mood!” Alex complained, embarrassed for the second time in less than ten minutes.

“Oh, I doubt it,” Eliza murmured, with a glance at him, then at her sister.

Peggy was smiling. “You are in the kitchen, you know,” she reminded them.

“Not everybody has private bedrooms,” Eliza pointed out.

Peggy’s smile got a little broader. “True. You want ours for a while?”

“Seriously?” Alex asked. “Where’s Gil?”

“In the clinic with Ben. I’ll tell him to stay downstairs.”

“You are the best sister ever,” Eliza told her. “I love you so much more than Angelica. She would never …”

“I know,” Peggy agreed. “Go. And lock the door!”

Alex grabbed Eliza’s hand and gave Peggy a quick kiss as they went past. She started laying maps out on the table, and then she heard Alex say, “Hey, John, come here. I need to talk to you about something.” _I knew they’d do that,_ she thought, smiling. The three of them were halfway up the stairs when John’s exclamation of “No way!” was quickly shushed by Alex and Eliza. It would be good for them to have some time, she thought.

Gil came in a few minutes later to make some tea, and she smiled at him.

“All alone, _chérie?”_ he asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

“Setting these up for the kids,” she told him. “They’re reading in the boys’ room now.”

He turned the kettle on and came closer to kiss her. She returned the kiss with interest, but said, “I should probably warn you not to start anything we can’t finish in the kitchen.”

“That is quite, um, limiting,” he told her.

“Yes, I know, and I’m sorry, but I sort of loaned our room out.”

_“Comment, chérie, tu as fait quoi?”_

She explained. He smiled and put his arms around her. “You are so kind, _chérie._ It was a good thing to do for them. We should have thought of it before.”

“We should have. Maybe we can work out a schedule.”

He laughed and kissed the top of her head. “In a few months, we will probably have our own house,” he told her. “It will have guest rooms so we can invite our friends and family to visit as often as we like.”

“I hope we will,” she said. “I hope it will all be real.”

He touched her stomach lightly. “It’s already real.”

She looked up at him, filled with the same delight that had struck her on that first day. She stood on tiptoe to try to kiss him, but he laughed and lifted her up instead of bending down.

She giggled, her feet six inches off the floor, and kissed him, their eyes level.

“I love you, Dr. Motier,” she said.

“I love you, Madame la Marquise,” he responded. “Oh, and one more thing,” he added, a rather uneasy look on his face. “Do you suppose they will clean up after themselves?”

“Gil, it’s Eliza! How can there be any doubt?”

* * * * *

Lockdown was over, and they were all long past patiently waiting. The march order was for three o’clock in the afternoon so that they would catch offices near the end of the work day and police stations at change of shift. Ben, Peggy, Eliza, and all the children crowded into the kitchen with them at two forty-five, and the air almost vibrated with the tension.

They wore insignia and a variety of green badges – ribbon, fabric, even broken leafy branch ends from the oak tree in the yard – pinned to collars or sleeves. Other than that, their uniforms were jeans and random shirts, but Angelica and Desi both had their hair braided with bright green ribbon.

In the last breathless few minutes, Peggy picked Katie up to kiss Gil, and Marcy held Teddie as Desi and Burr covered her little face with kisses. The Laurens kids all hugged John, then Alex and John both kissed Eliza. Gil was the last one out, refusing to rush Peggy’s kiss. They were meeting Tony’s squad at the corner of Castle, and as they went out the gate, John started the chant.

“Rise up, rise up, rise up …”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Alex says, "I know the action in the street is exciting." The entire future of the country hinges on the success of the Second Insurrection. In the next few chapters, you'll see how it goes, both with the ones doing the actual fighting and with the ones waiting at home, whose job may actually be harder.  
> Everybody is in danger in one way or another. War is hell, and death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints.  
> I love you all, but -- and I hope this makes sense in some way -- I can't write lies. To have everyone exactly the same after a war as they were before it would be a lie, untrue to the characters I've worked hard to make real. I owe them -- and you -- honesty.  
> Enough of that. I know you understand. Lots and lots of love and gratitude to you, and if you need me, you'll find me over in the corner, crying on my keyboard.


	50. Death Doesn't Discriminate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "War is hell." -- General William Tecumseh Sherman, 1879

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title says it all.

Within a few hours of the beginning of the Second Insurrection, General Akhdir was communicating with citizens by means of podcasts and automated texts. As fast as King’s technicians sabotaged his sites, Maddie got new ones up, having spent weeks preparing to do just that.

The General spoke with the same kind of gravity and dignity that President Washington had; indeed, he evoked Washington more than once as he encouraged the people to rise up and fight for a free government. At the same time, King’s state news channels gibbered hysterically about the “terrorists” who were attempting a “military coup.”

The Movement members on the streets had to defend themselves verbally as well as physically, but it worked in their favor that they were all whole-heartedly committed to the cause.

Anybody who asked “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” got a complete and detailed response.

The first targets were police stations, where elaborately uniformed but poorly-trained Greaters were out-planned and outwitted by members of the Movement armed with an odd assortment of hunting rifles and French-made automatic weapons. Greaters were temporarily locked in their own cells, where they awaited transfer to larger facilities. Alex and Tony made sure that Gil and Joe had the opportunity to be among those who took out the precinct building where they had been held not so long ago. Gil took point going in and found Lieutenant Warner in his office, while behind and around him other fighters herded police officers into cells.

“Good afternoon, Lieutenant Warner,” Gil said courteously, aiming directly between Warner’s eyes. “Perhaps you remember me.”

Warner stood up slowly, all the color draining out of his face, his hands up. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he stammered. “That was a misunderstanding. We just had you confused with that French guy. An honest mistake, you know?”

“Actually, no,” Gil told him. “My name is Lafayette. I lied quite well, didn’t I?”

Warner leaned over the trash can next to his desk and lost his lunch.

“Keep your hands up, _connard!_ ” Gil snapped, his mouth twitching in disgust. He jerked his head at Liz. “Cuff his hands tightly behind his back. We’ll be sure they stay that way for at least six hours.”

Joe, in another room, took in both Cuthbert and McCall with the help of Roger Stayner.

“You’re right, Joe,” Roger commented distinctly as they marched the two Greaters down the hall. “These guys look really stupid.”

By nightfall, most police stations were secure, and most Greaters were under lock and key. Several of them were begging to join the Movement, and their names were being sent to headquarters so that Maddie and her staff there could run background checks. If she could clear even a skeleton staff of police officers, they could supplement them with local Movement members to keep order in the city.

“Remember, no unnecessary bloodshed or property damage,” Alex reminded them as they approached their primary target for the first day. Disabling the Greaters was necessary so that they could take their primary target without interference. As Alex approached it now, he could hear shouts and cheers and what might have been gunfire or firecrackers.

He came in from the east, taking point with John and Angelica on either side of him, and so many people behind him that he sincerely hoped that somebody back there was directing the crowd. Most of the street lights were out, but Hugh and Dave had swiped a couple of spotlights from God knows where and they had set them up to illuminate the flatbed truck where Alex would stand. He crossed the wide band of grass and turned left, remembering back before King, when Washington was President and the building had been filled with people every day and illuminated every night. Now it was closed, doors shut and locked, windows covered with ugly boards. He turned and called over his shoulder, “Let’s get those boards off the windows. We want the building open to the public in a week.”

He hoped he wasn’t being overly optimistic, but he understood the importance of symbols. People surged forward and began yanking at the boarded-up windows, using their hands or whatever they could find. Somebody had a crowbar and somebody else a hammer, and it didn’t take long before all the windows on the lower level were uncovered, reflecting the light from the spotlights. Alex looked at it, nodding in approval, his throat tight. He jumped up onto the flatbed. The crowd applauded and cheered, some yelling, “Speech! Speech!”

John looked sideways at Angelica and they both grinned. “Like anybody could stop him,” she said.

Alex waved his hands for quiet. He had no microphone, no amplification, and the crowd gradually fell silent – not just quiet, but silent, waiting for him. He looked out over them, returning the occasional wave, his hand repeatedly over his heart in acknowledgement. When he could finally be heard, he gestured to the building behind him.

“This building belongs to all of us,” he said. “There is a reason it’s called Independence Hall. It was in this building that the Declaration of Independence was adopted and signed. It was in this building that our nation began. Well over two hundred years ago, fifty-five men met here to do something that had never been done before – to found a nation based on a Constitution and laws rather than on patriarchy and tradition. No country, ever, in the history of the world, had had its government crafted entirely by the men who would live under it. Imagine, if you will, the burden and the hope that they lived under, and recognize, if you can, the wisdom and foresight that brought forth the Constitution that, until very recently, was the Supreme Law of our land.

That sacred – and I don’t use the word lightly – Constitution has been abused and plundered in the last few years by those who believe that some people are above the law, that liberty belongs only to a select few. They have adopted the rule of aristocracy and oligarchy, but we know that their rule is evil and corrupt.

They began by knocking us down, by pulling away our rights one by one, so that by the time we realized what was happening, we were living on our knees. That ends now! If you’re living on your knees, rise up! Tell your brothers and sisters to rise up! We must all rise, remove what is an illegal and illegitimate government, and hold free elections because freedom is something they can never take away, no matter what they tell you!

Listen to what General Akhdir, President Washington’s Vice-President, has to say. He’s broadcasting now. He is leading this Movement to restore a free government. Join us now! Take back your city, take back your country. We will hold free elections. You will live in a free country where all people have equal rights. Rise up!

Our Constitution still stands and will always stand as the Supreme Law of the land. Rise up!”

He stopped speaking, knowing he had said everything that needed to be said, and stood there, his breath coming fast, his eyes shining, his hair a tangled mess. The crowd surged forward, roaring, and John and Angelica and Herc had to jump up onto the flatbed to keep them from mobbing Alex. He bent down and shook as many hands as he could. Some people kissed his hand instead of shaking it, many of them crying. A few with phones had recorded Alex’s speech and were replaying it for others who were just arriving. They were sending it to anybody they could send it to, while Maddie, hundreds of miles away, did everything she could to keep access open. Some were listening to the General’s podcasts at top volume and sharing them with one another.

Alex reached out his left hand for John, who grabbed it and stood with him. “Hang on to me,” he said, his voice shaking. “I need to keep my feet on the ground.”

John laughed and yelled, “Rise up!” to somebody in the crowd. He turned back to Alex. “Hell of a speech, babe,” he said.

Alex took another breath, looking out at the sea of people that stretched as far as he could see, people cheering, shouting, crying, waving phones in the air, lifting children onto their shoulders. Armed Movement members stood among them, vigilant, but there was no disorder. Instead, there was a sort of delirious relief and a renewed hope. Someone half a block away began chanting, “Our Constitution still stands!” Someone else shouted, “The Supreme Law of our Land!” and it became a call-and-response across the streets, block after block, across the city, spread by hundreds, then by thousands of voices. The words surrounded them, echoed around them, and hope lifted them all.

“I think we may have started something,” Alex said.

* * * * *

The second day didn’t go as well.

"When we say that the artificial distinctions of Haves, Hopes, and Deplos will be eliminated, we do not mean that you are entitled to anyone else's property," the General had to state clearly.

Tony's squad was busy in Center City keeping people from helping themselves to merchandise in stores.

"You can secure your store and close it, or keep it open and do business," Tony told merchants. About half of them stayed open, mostly smaller establishments. The Movement encouraged people as much as possible to go about their lives, so they made a point of patronizing these businesses, even if it was only to have a cup of coffee or buy a couple of pencils. Business owners watched warily, but began to relax a little when Movement members were unfailingly polite and friendly.

Still, there was an understandable amount of anxiety among the citizens with the city government disabled and guys with guns in City Hall. As with the businesses, it was important to keep city services functioning. With minimal supervision from the Movement, the General ordered clerks to continue doing their jobs, while eliminating citizen classifications on things like real estate transactions and marriage licenses. That cleared the way to simplify property sales and brought more than one Have-Hope couple out of hiding to get married. Tony, officially appointed by Headquarters as City Supervisor, found himself beseeched by a tearful and very pregnant would-be bride to perform a wedding.

“Is this legal?” he asked Dr. Barron on a secure line to Headquarters.

“It is if you say it is,” Dr. Barron told him.

“Okay, then,” Tony agreed, giving the young couple a thumbs up to more floods of tears. “Somebody give me the book with the words in it.”

At around noon, gunfire broke out along Broad Street. Nobody was sure what started it, but Movement members reacted quickly to put it down. There were a dozen injuries, two serious, and then some difficulty getting the wounded treated since hospital administrators were still debating with themselves about deleting classifications before admitting patients.

Gil, cursing any medical professional who would refuse to treat an injured person, stitched and bandaged a couple of citizens, even removing a bullet from one man's arm, thanking God or whoever was responsible for enough Novocain.

"We've got to be able to write prescriptions," he told Alex. "I shot the guy full of antibiotics and gave him enough pills, but our supply will never last and there's nothing dirtier than gunshot wounds." Alex notified the General and he was able to get some cooperation from the major pharmaceutical chains. That was a good sign that what they liked to call mainstream society was seeing the writing on the wall.

Toward evening, there was a nasty firefight in North Philly, and the first three deaths were reported, one guy who was with the Movement and two Greaters who had eluded capture. There was a Greater captain named Crispin who was loyal to King, rallying King's supporters. He gained a following – not a huge one, but there were plenty of people who believed that protecting the status quo was the safest course of action. Crispin told them that the Movement was treason, plain and simple, and that when King won, as he would, they would all die.

"He's not wrong about that," Alex said. "If King were to win -- which he won't -- we'd all be on death row."

"It'd be pretty crowded," Herc commented and they all laughed, but nobody really thought it was funny.

Crispin was added to the short list of those who had to be eliminated. Those were orders that Alex and Tony didn’t share with everyone. Assignments were made quietly.

"We can't think about defeat," Peggy told a tearful Marcy when they heard about Crispin. "We know we're on the right side, and we'll win."

"I don't want John to get hurt," Marcy said.

"John's tough. I think he has nine lives."

Marcy gave her a watery smile. "You think Gil will have to stitch him together again?"

"I wouldn't be surprised."

It was actually not until the third day that Gil had to treat John for an ugly bullet wound in his right thigh. The bullet had plowed a path from his hip to just above the knee, tearing up the muscle. Gil cleaned the wound and repaired a tendon under local anesthesia while John cursed the idiot who had shot him. “Fucking moron couldn’t even get the bullet through and through.”

Gil told him to stay off the leg for a week. John thought that was laughably ridiculous, so Gil wrapped him in bandages and made him promise to have it looked at every day.

“Does it hurt?” James asked the first time John was home after it happened.

“Fuck, yeah,” John told him.

James’s eyes widened. “What are you going to do?”

“Go fight some more.”

* * * * *

In Boston, things were going even better than in Philadelphia. Ethan and Seth had the city secured in a week. New York, like Philadelphia, was progressing unevenly, but the General was optimistic. Frank Marion was having some difficulty in Charleston, so reinforcements were being sent from the Pittsburgh area, where things already seemed secure. Nobody doubted that Frank would bring things under control, even if it took a little longer. Across the country, reports were coming in that the Movement was slowly but surely turning the tide against King’s government.

TJ reported from Norfolk that residents of the capital were beginning to evacuate as King came down harder and harder on his city. Even those who had previously enjoyed his favor were now frightened by his erratic moods. One after another, they confided to TJ or other Movement members about unstable conditions in the capital. TJ passed the information along to the General, and he was able to use it to further his plans.

After a week, Philadelphia was generally calm and regular city services like trash pick-up and bus transportation were functioning. Nighttime patrols were being handled by local people, even some former Greaters who had gotten clearance. Their biggest headache was Crispin’s faction, who had gone into hiding and were striking out randomly. “Like we used to do,” Alex commented with a rueful smile.

“We were way better than they are,” Herc reminded him.

“True, but we can’t ignore them. If nothing else, they keep people on edge, and we don’t want the city living in fear.”

The irony wasn’t lost on them, but familiar as they were with guerilla tactics and sabotage, they were gradually closing in on Crispin. The General strongly encouraged including local residents in all decisions, and it was working well. With cooperation from the citizens, they were eliminating possible hiding places one by one.

Alex’s and Tony’s squads were able to get back to the houses at night, get a meal and some rest, and discuss the strategies the Movement was helping to put in place. They were all still on alert, of course, but the Second Insurrection seemed to be accomplishing its objectives. Alex had become something of a celebrity, stopped on the street by people who wanted to shake his hand.

“I heard your speech at Independence Hall,” they would say. “Thank you.”

Parents dragged wide-eyed, awed children up to him and said “Tell my kids about the Constitution,” and he would, getting down on the kids’ level and explaining it in ways they could understand. They would go off and tell their friends that they had met the real Alexander Hamilton.

John, in the meantime, with his gift of making every man, woman, or child he met feel like they were his best friend, made it his job to get problems addressed. People came to him because a sick grandmother needed to get to a doctor or because a neighbor was brandishing a gun and threatening to shoot somebody – it didn’t matter. Word got around that Colonel Laurens was the guy who could help. Most of what John did was just pass the information on to the right person, but everyone who talked to him got his full attention, a sincere handshake, a sympathetic hug, and always, his smile.

Herc came back to the house laughing one evening. “You know what I heard on the street today?” he asked. “Some lady was saying to her friend, ‘General Hamilton would be a great President, but that Colonel Laurens is the one I’d want to marry my daughter.’”

John dropped his face into his hands while they all cracked up. Then he looked up and, with a smirk at Alex, inquired innocently, “Do you think she’s got a son?”

On the eighth day of the Second Insurrection, General Anthony “Crazy Tony” Wayne was pleased to inform the General that a patrol headed by Hugh Mackey and including Desi Bartow had located Crispin’s group of followers hiding out in the woods along the Wissahickon, where they were living on cold snack food and being eaten alive by mosquitoes. Hugh took out Crispin with his first shot, and most of the hungry, itchy, and demoralized troop seemed relieved to surrender. A couple of the more determined ones tried to advance, but Desi had her gun up instantly, and they backed off. It was the first time she had seen any action, and she couldn’t wait to get back and tell everybody, especially Burr. He had been out with Roger Stayner, Dave Coleman, and a few other guys from the neighborhood, patrolling some of the areas where things were still a little rough, but Desi was hoping to one-up him and everybody else with her report that Crispin’s unit was no longer a problem.

Reports had to be made, though, and paperwork completed, and it was already dark when Desi and Hugh met up with Burr, Dave, and Roger a few blocks from the house. Burr had his own story about dealing with looters, but Desi had been right that hers was more important. They were all still high on adrenaline, talking fast, interrupting each other. Roger took point, but they were almost home, and nothing had been happening in the neighborhood.

Desi bounced on her toes. “And I pointed the gun at him and said, ‘Back off, jackass, or you’ll go into that creek ass-first.’”

“Did he back off?” Burr asked, laughing.

“Fuck, yeah!” she told him.

Hugh was walking backwards, just ahead of Desi, laughing with them, when the first shot zipped past them. It missed, but all five of them sprang into position, looking into the darkness.

Something moved against the wall across the street, and they heard a voice yell, “Fucking bitch!”

Desi froze, eyes wide. “Jimmy!”

The second shot took her down before anybody could see the target, the third put Hugh on the ground, screaming with pain from a shattered femur. Burr scooped up Desi and ran, while Roger and Dave fired into a pile of shadows. They hit something, because even with Hugh yelling, they heard more screams from the other side of the street.

John and Herc were there almost before they realized it, covering them, while Ben and Angelica got Hugh onto a stretcher and sprinted back to the house. They must have heard the noise, Roger thought, still firing at where he thought the ambush had come from. There were different shapes of shadow and darkness on the wall, but there was nothing substantial to aim at, and they fired blindly. The four of them kept shooting, but after a while they realized there were no more return volleys, and John ordered, “Hold your fire!”

They advanced cautiously with John on point, guns ready, to the other side of the street, where it was silent now.

“I hope to God I hit the bastard,” Roger muttered.

They closed in, and once they got near, there was just enough starlight to see the shapes of two bodies on the ground. There was no movement, and no sound, and the faint light reflected on blood that ran down the sidewalk and into the gutter like water after a rain. Herc nudged the smaller body with his foot, rolling it so he could see the face. His own face went still.

“Who?” John asked.

“Sadie fucking Shippen,” Herc responded, his voice expressionless.

“The guy yelled something,” Roger told them, “and Desi said ‘Jimmy’.”

“Yeah,” John said, looking at the other body. He crouched down painfully and checked both for a pulse, just to be sure, but there was no doubt in his mind. “It’s Jimmy Prevost. Jimmy Prevost and Sadie Shippen, both dead.” He stood up and spat into the bloody gutter. “Take their weapons, Dave,” he ordered.

Dave got their guns and ammo, handing half of it to Roger.

John turned and headed in the direction of the house. They followed tentatively, straggling a little.

Roger looked back. “What about them?” he asked.

“Fuck them,” John said, his steps unwavering. “Let them rot.”

Alex met them at the door, and John knew it was bad as soon as he saw his face. He threw his gun to Herc and took Alex in his arms.

Gil came in from the clinic, his hands covered with blood, his face ashen. “Hugh will be okay,” he said to Dave. “Angelica and Eliza are taking him to the hospital over on Spruce. Penn’s taking trauma patients now.” His voice was expressionless, robotic.

He stopped, his eyes unfocused, and there was a long pause before Herc asked what they wanted to know. “Desi?”

Gil ran a weary hand over his face, smearing blood into the sweat. He turned away for a minute and took a breath. “The bullet struck her aorta. She was gone before she hit the ground.”

“Ah, shit,” Herc said. “Ah, _shit."_

“Burr?” Roger asked.

“What can I say? He’s shattered. Peggy’s with him.”

Herc put his arm around Gil and pulled him in. “There was nothing you could have done, Gil.”

“I know,” Gil said, and he sounded exhausted. Suddenly, he smashed his fist into the wall and cursed blindly. “Fuck King! Fuck them all! _Salauds! Salauds de putain!”_

John let go of Alex long enough to reach for Gil, and he pulled both of them into the kitchen, Herc right behind them.

“Wash your hands and face, Gil,” he ordered. “Where’s Ben?”

“In the clinic,” Gil told him, obediently soaping his hands at the sink. “We’ve got a couple of neighborhood guys in there, just some sutures and minor injuries.”

John nodded. He went to the hall. “Roger, Dave, go on home. Dave, be sure your family knows where Hugh is. Be back early tomorrow.”

They both left and John filled the kettle to make tea. “Did any of you eat today?” he asked, but no one could remember. John waved his hand at the fridge, and Herc got out some leftover rice and beans and began spooning it into a pot.

Alex was silent, sitting on a chair, staring at the floor. John knelt down in front of him, wincing at the pain in his leg. “Did you talk to Burr yet?”

Alex shook his head briefly. “Gil told him,” he said, his voice shaky.

“You have to talk to him. You’re in command,” John reminded him.

“Tony …” Alex started.

“No,” John said, gently but firmly. “You. It has to be you. You knew her.”

Alex finally looked up, and his face broke John’s heart. He laid his hand along Alex’s cheek, running his thumb over the scar that he himself had put there. “Eat something first,” he said. “Drink some tea, and then you go in there and tell him how Desi was the best soldier the Movement had. You tell him she was a hero.”

Alex nodded, and John kissed him briefly and stood back up.

“We’re not going to leave Burr alone tonight,” he said. “Alex will go talk to him in a few minutes, and then we’ll take turns, however it works out. Gil, you need to sleep, so as soon as Alex goes in to sit with him, Peggy comes out and the two of you try to get some rest.”

Gil nodded, immensely grateful that John understood how much he needed Peggy with him.

John had to ask him one more question. “Is she … is Desi’s body in their room with him?”

Gil couldn’t speak for a minute as his eyes filled. “He wanted … I couldn’t tell him no, John.”

John put his arms around him. “No, of course you couldn’t. It’s okay. We’ll deal with protocol in the morning.” Although how the hell they were going to do that, he had no idea. What did officers do when they lost five or six or ten soldiers in a day as they had in so many past wars? “Eat something now, then get some sleep. Tony’s guys are still out, and you’ll have more to deal with tomorrow.”

Alex gulped down some rice and a cup of tea and stood up, shouldering his worst responsibility as a commanding officer. He stood with John for a moment, their foreheads touching, then gave him a quick kiss and went up the stairs. They heard voices briefly, and then Peggy came down the stairs and into the kitchen. Gil picked her up and held her on his lap as she sobbed against his shoulder.

“Teddie?” Gil asked.

“I fed her,” Peggy whispered. “Annie made them get some formula and bottles before Teddie was born. She said they might need them. She meant like if Desi got a cold or something, though, not …”

Gil stroked her hair and kissed her. _“Sh, chérie, tu as beaucoup de courage.”_

“No,” Peggy said bleakly, “none at all. All I can do is cry.”

“Cry then. We’re all going to cry.”

“What’s he going to do, Gil?”

Gil closed his eyes. He had known the moment he looked at Desi that she was gone, and beyond his grief and anger for her and Burr and little Teddie was the personal terror that tore at him. What if it was Peggy? _How do people survive,_ he wondered. _How will Burr survive?_ He had no answer.

 _“Chais pas, chérie,”_ he said. _“J’ai aucune idée.”_

* * * * *

Early the next morning, Dave Coleman asked to speak with Alex alone.

Alex, exhausted, his eyes darkly shadowed, took him out onto the small back porch.

“There were more than two guns,” Dave said without preamble.

Alex frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve hunted since I was a kid,” Dave told him. “Not all guns sound the same. I picked up the guns and gave them to Roger last night, but there were other guns being fired.”

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“Yeah. There were three fast shots before we had a chance to fire back. The first and the second – the one that killed Desi – came from the same gun. It could have been either of the ones we picked up; they were identical. The third shot, the one that hit Hugh? That came from a different gun.”

“So there was someone else shooting.”

Dave nodded. “Yeah – and this wasn’t part of the Insurrection,” he said. “This was personal.”

“I know,” Alex told him. “This wasn’t warfare. This was a crime, and that’s how we’re going to treat it. Jimmy Prevost and Sadie Shippen are dead, and that’s no loss to any of us, but if someone else was there, that person is also guilty. We need to make sure justice is done.”

“Anything I can do, let me know,” Dave said. He hesitated for a moment, then asked, “How’s Burr?”

“Awful,” Alex told him honestly. “I spoke to him a little last night, but I don’t think he took anything in. He just holds the baby, talking to her about her mother.” He turned away and took a deep breath. “We have to make arrangements …”

“Saint C’s has offered cemetery space, you know,” Dave told him.

“No, I didn’t. Saint C’s?”

“Sorry, Saint Cecilia’s. The big white church about six blocks up.”

“Okay, I know which one you mean.”

“Father Mike, there, he’s a good guy. You want me to talk to him? Send him over?”

“Yeah, as soon as possible.” He reached out. “Thank you, Dave.”

Dave shrugged. “I wish I didn’t have to. Listen, before – before it happened last night, Hugh was telling us how badass Desi was. She scared the crap out of Crispin’s team. Burr should know about all that.”

“I’ll make sure Hugh gets a chance to tell him. When will he be home?”

“A couple days, they say. They did surgery last night, and he’ll be on crutches for a while, but he’ll be okay. He might have a limp, the doctor said, something about not having the right pins and plates. I don’t know, but I told my aunt I’d ask Gil.”

“Yeah, go ahead. Herc and John and Angelica went out this morning, but Gil is staying here. With some of the hospitals opening up, we don’t really need him on the street now.”

“How is he?” Dave asked.

“Well, we’re all pretty much a mess. I need to be here to handle things like talking to Father Mike.” He looked away and ran his hand through his hair. “We did a lousy job of planning for people to die,” he said, his voice breaking. “It’s the one thing we had absolutely no provision for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I were following the canon here, it would be John Laurens who was killed in action, along with the nameless thousands dead of wounds, disease, and starvation. I write about a heart-breaking death not to cause pain, but to declare that no victory of any kind comes without its cost. Peggy and Gil, Alex, John, all of them, will each in their own way have to reconcile themselves to the price that was paid. They will have to decide who tells Desi's story.  
> I'm sorry for any pain I've given you, but even the most justified war has innocent victims. It's important to remember that, and them.  
> Love and gratitude to you all, always.


	51. Dear Theodosia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The squad and their friends say goodbye to Desi.

Father Mike was in his forties, with thinning gray hair and steel-rimmed glasses. He sat down with Alex in the kitchen and didn’t mince words.

“Saint Cecilia’s is open to everyone,” he said, “and so is our cemetery. That includes your friend, but that also includes the two that your team left dead on the street last night.”

“Bury Desi with her murderer?” Alex asked bitterly.

Father Mike shook his head. “Bury three of God’s children.”

Alex got up to get another cup of coffee – thank God Tony had some, and Liz had brought it over.

It was John’s turn. “Father, I don’t see how I can tell Desi’s family that Jimmy Prevost and Sadie Shippen will be buried near her.”

“They won’t be,” Father Mike told him. “They’ll be in different sections of the cemetery — and if, as you say, the girl is Judge Shippen’s daughter, the Shippen family may well wish to make their own arrangements. Have they been notified?”

John nodded. Tony had taken care of that.

Alex turned back to them. “We should talk to Burr.”

“No,” John said. “We’re not going to burden him with anything else. This is on us.”

 _Colonel Laurens is better at decision-making than General Hamilton_ , Father Mike thought, surveying them over the rim of his coffee cup. He’d heard a lot about these two; Hamilton outranked Laurens but consulted him on everything. Hamilton was inspiring, but Laurens was the one who got things done. Hamilton was the voice; Laurens was the hands and feet. He could see that here, but he could also see that neither one of them would function well without the other.

“Yeah, you’re right, you’re right,” Alex conceded after a moment’s hesitation. “Maybe we shouldn’t even tell Burr that they’ll be in the same cemetery.”

“We’ll tell him,” John said, “but not now. He needs time.”

Father Mike nodded. “I think that’s the right decision. Her family, now, tell me about them.”

Alex stayed silent, staring at the wall, and John started, “It’s just her and Burr and the baby…” he bit his lip then and said, “I’m going to get Eliza.”

Eliza, when she came into the kitchen, looked as weary as Alex, her hair pulled back, her eyes shadowed, even her lips pale. She managed a small smile for Father Mike. “You want to know about Desi?” she asked, and he nodded.

“She was beautiful,” Eliza began. “That was the first thing you noticed about her. Then you noticed her laugh. She had a wicked sense of humor. She had a generous heart. But I think what she’d want you to know is that she was determined to fight so that her daughter would have a better life. She knew what the risks were, but she took it on anyway. She faced down part of Crispin’s unit the day she died.”

“Courage, then.”

“Yes,” Eliza agreed, “great courage.”

“And charity?”

“Charity?”

“You said she had a generous heart.”

“Oh, yes, in that sense.” She looked a little puzzled.

“You see,” Father Mike said, “I find that almost everyone, in one way or another, expresses some of the great virtues. If I’m presiding over a funeral, and I didn’t actually know the person, it helps me to find those.”

“Is love one of those virtues?” Eliza asked.

“Love is always a virtue,” Father Mike said.

“Desi was good at love,” she told him.

* * * * *

Peggy found the children huddled together in Marcy and Polly’s room. Marcy was trying to read _The Princess and the Goblin_ to them, but she was struggling not to cry. Peggy sat down on the floor with them, and held out her arms. Katie and Polly climbed onto her lap and Marcy leaned on her shoulder. Harry, at eleven, didn’t want anybody to see him cry, so he kept his eyes down, and James just scooted a little closer without quite touching her.

James was the first to speak. “Marcy says Desi died.”

Peggy nodded. “That’s true,” she said, hoping that somehow she would find the right things to say. “We’re all really sad about it. We’ve been crying a lot.”

“John cried,” Harry muttered.

“Of course he did,” Peggy told him. “Desi was his friend, and he’s going to miss her. John and Alex and Gil and Herc, they all cried.”

“Herc?” Harry asked, barely audible.

Peggy reached for his hand. “Listen to me, Harry. People cry when they’re sad. Men and women both cry. There’s nobody in this house who’s ashamed of crying, and nobody who wants you to feel ashamed of crying.”

She saw his lip tremble. “My dad …”

She held his hand a little tighter. “I know,” she said, “but it’s not like that here. John’s not like that. We love you whether you’re happy or sad, whether you cry or laugh.”

Harry nodded and swiped his hand across his eyes.

“Did she die in the fighting?” James asked.

“Yes.” That might be a half truth, but she was not going to talk to the children about Jimmy Prevost.

“Because she’s a soldier?” Katie asked.

“Yes,” Peggy said again. “She was a very brave soldier.”

Polly looked up at her, wide-eyed. “Like John?”

“John’s a brave soldier, too,” Peggy told her, “and so are Alex and Herc and Angelica and Gil, and all of Uncle Tony’s guys. Most soldiers don’t get hurt, or maybe they get hurt a little bit and then get better, like John did.”

“How come Tonton couldn’t make Teddie’s mama get better?” Katie asked.

Peggy pulled her close and buried her face in Katie’s curls. “Sometimes, _chérie,”_ she said, “people get hurt so badly that no one can make them better.”

“Not even Tonton?”

“Not even Tonton.”

“Marcy says that Teddie’s mama is in heaven with my mama,” Polly whispered.

 _I am not doing theological instruction here_ , Peggy told herself. _I am trying to comfort children._ “Yeah, she is,” she said.

“And my mama too?” Katie asked.

“Mm-hmm.”

Polly nodded. “That’s good,” she said, “because she can be friends with them.”

Peggy held onto her self-control with all her strength. “Yes, she can,” she told Polly, kissing her hair.

Katie had been thinking, and she looked up at Peggy with a worried frown. “Tatie, does everybody’s mamas die?”

* * * * *

Tony had managed to notify the Shippen family of Sadie’s death without actually speaking to Judge Shippen himself. The judge had been very careful to keep a low profile since the Insurrection began, issuing no public statements either in support of or opposition to the Movement. Still, Ben Arnold was lodged in his home, and, although only Tony and Alex knew it, the judge would not survive the Insurrection. They needed a plan to make that happen, and if Ben Arnold didn’t survive either, well, they wouldn’t be sorry.

Judge Shippen used King’s news services to put out a story about how Sadie had died heroically defending the legal government against the illegal rebellion. Alex, furious, wanted to counter it with a more accurate account, but Tony and John managed to talk him down.

“The only people who will believe this bullshit are the ones who didn’t know Sadie Shippen,” John said. “Believe me, nobody I’ve talked to is a fan of the judge. Anyway, they know everything on King’s media is propaganda.”

That was true, but as the Insurrection grew stronger, so did the free press. At first, there was a shortage of journalists to report what was actually going on, but the General insisted that his senior officers talk to any members of the press as often as possible. Gradually, reliable news sources were appearing on the media, and even in print. A guy named David Hall was turning out a newsletter a couple of times a week, and even though most of his writers were understandably using pseudonyms, the reports were reliable. By now, the citizens were more likely to have faith in Hall’s newsletter than in the most professionally produced official news show on the internet or the airwaves.

Nevertheless, Judge Shippen arranged an elaborate funeral for his daughter, with solemn speakers eulogizing her as a fallen patriot. There was plenty of media coverage, and Alex and Tony sat in the kitchen at Andy’s house to watch it on Alex’s tablet.

“Let’s see who’s there,” Tony said. “Maybe we’ll learn something.”

“That’s Ben Arnold,” Alex said, pointing out a distinguished-looking guy with dark, heavy eyebrows and graying hair. “That must be Sadie’s sister Meg with him.”

Tony’s eyebrows went up. “That’s his wife, right? How old is she?”

“Young. Sadie was my age, so a couple of years younger.”

“And Ben Arnold?”

“Forty, at least, wouldn’t you say?”

“Wow. Trophy wife?”

“Maybe. He was married before, has a couple kids from the first marriage. They live in Seattle or somewhere. Plus, there’s the Shippen money.”

“Oh, yeah, a hot twenty-year-old chick with family money. Who could be tempted by that? There’s no Shippen brother, is there? Who’s that guy with them, holding onto Meg’s other arm?” Tony wanted to know.

Alex squinted at the tablet. “No, four girls in the Shippen family, no boys. I don’t think I know him. Could be a cousin or just a friend, I guess. Get a screen shot, and we’ll ask around.”

When the funeral coverage was over, Tony said, “Let’s get John and Herc in here and kick some ideas around.”

“You going to tell them about the judge?” Alex asked.

“Yeah. We need to get this done.”

“You want Angelica and Jack too?” Alex asked.

“Not yet.”

Once John and Herc had joined them, Tony leaned back in his chair. “We have orders from Headquarters that Judge Shippen is not to survive the Second Insurrection,” he told them.

Neither one showed signs of surprise. “The General doesn’t want anybody around who could be a focus for a counter-insurrection,” John deduced.

“That’s pretty much it,” Tony agreed.

“Same reason they took out my father,” John stated bluntly.

“Shit, John, I didn’t mean …” Tony started.

“No, it’s okay. I just figured that was the issue; he had money, position, a certain number of rich Have friends. He could have commanded a faction.” John’s tone was remarkably dispassionate. He glanced over at Alex. “As far as I’m concerned, that part of my life is over, and the kids and I are all better off, but it looks to me like it’s a similar situation with Judge Shippen.”

Tony was still disconcerted by John’s directness, so Alex answered. “It’s for the same reason,” he said, “but it’s more urgent. He produced this funeral like a documentary. He’s going to use Sadie’s death as a rallying point. We knew her when she was alive, and she was no hero, to say the least. She was stupid and obnoxious, and I don’t think she ever gave a thought to anybody but herself. But the judge can use her now. Did you see all the pictures of her? She was young and reasonably attractive, and they can turn her into any symbol they want.”

“You think the judge would use his own daughter’s death like that?” Herc asked.

“I don’t know,” Alex admitted. “I don’t know Judge Shippen. You know who would, though? Ben Arnold. He’d use anybody or anything to advance himself. He and his wife are living with the judge now, so he could be pulling strings.”

“Headquarters send any orders about him?” Herc asked.

Alex shook his head. “No, the General says he doesn’t issue orders based on speculation.”

“So you’ve discussed it with him?”

Alex looked pained. “Let’s say I opened the subject. The General then told me that I had a history of jumping to conclusions. I countered that with examples of my carefully thought out decision-making processes, and he handed the phone to Dr. Barron, who told me to shut up.”

John couldn’t quite suppress a smile. “It’s very honest of you to tell us that.”

Alex snorted. “You would have figured it out.”

“Hey,” Tony said, pulling up the screen shot and enlarging it as much as he could. “Either of you know this guy?”

“The one hanging onto Meg?” Herc asked.

“Yeah.”

John leaned over and nodded. “I think so. At least, he looks familiar. Herc, didn’t he play basketball?”

“Yeah, Dré something, wasn’t it? Short for André?”

“That’s it,” John agreed. “André Johns. Very popular with the ladies, as I recall.”

Herc was still staring at the picture. “Right,” he said. “I know it’s been a few years, but I’m positive he was dating one of the Shippen girls.”

“Which one?” Tony asked with interest.

“Couldn’t tell you,” Herc shrugged, “but it looks like he’s still a close friend of the family.”

“Well,” said Alex, “all of this is very interesting, and I’m pretty sure that Ben Arnold will be getting up to something, with or without his wife, Judge Shippen, or André Johns, but we need to focus on the judge. Our reports say he isn’t leaving the house now.”

“That doesn’t make it easier,” John said.

“Keep it simple,” Tony told them. “Either we get in, or we draw him out.”

“We’re better off on our turf, not his,” Herc pointed out.

“So we need a plan that will get him out of his house to meet with us,” Alex concluded.

“Great,” Tony said sarcastically. “You have any ideas?”

Alex nodded. “I might.”

* * * * *

Desi’s funeral was held two days after her death. It was a very modest ceremony. Peggy and Eliza tearfully dressed Desi in plain black pants and a green top, and left the green ribbons braided into her hair. Dave Coleman and some of his friends made a simple coffin that Angelica lined with a clean sheet. They gave Burr a few minutes alone with her, then Peggy brought the baby in and Burr gently placed Teddie in her mother’s arms for just a moment. Desi was cold and still, and he knew Teddie would feel no comfort, but perhaps, wherever Desi was, she knew that her daughter was saying goodbye. John led Burr away and to the car because the guys had to nail the coffin shut, and they weren’t going to let him hear that. They took Desi’s coffin to the church in the back of the van, and then Alex, Gil, Herc, Tony, Jack, and Joe carried it to the graveside.

They all gathered around, even the children, because they had all been Desi’s family. Annie had come, and so had Will Jenkins and his cousin Andy. Roger and Dave were there, although Hugh was still in the hospital. Becky and Sam Jenkins stood with Marcy, all three of them wearing clusters of leaves tied with green ribbon. Alex and Eliza stood with Burr, Eliza holding Teddie, and John stood right behind them. They still hadn’t left him alone, making sure someone sat in the room with him even while he slept. Not that he had slept much, and now he stood like stone, as if he was barely aware of anyone else there.

Father Mike knew all the right things to say, and spoke about Desi’s courage as if he had known her personally. He talked about how proud Teddie would be of her one day, and how lucky they were to have known her, and he was right about all of that, but there was little solace for any of them. He spoke of hope and resurrection and life eternal and the words floated past them all. Finally, he came to the Lord’s Prayer, and Alex remembered enough to join in, praying in French, because that’s how he had learned it, and then Marcy and Harry picked it up in Spanish, so that by the time they got to the Amen, most of the mourners gathered around Desi’s grave had said a few words of the ancient prayer. Peggy, holding Katie in her arms and leaning against Gil, heard him murmur, _“Délivre-nous du mal,”_ and the tears ran down her face. Katie was half asleep and understood very little of what was going on, but she reached up and patted Peggy’s cheek. _“Pleure pas, Tatie,”_ she whispered. _“Je t’aime.”_

Burr stood motionless through the whole service until the very end, when it all became too much for him, and he dropped to his knees, sobbing. Alex and John were right there, one on either side, and they knelt with him, not trying to make him stand up or stop crying, just holding onto him. Finally it passed, and he tried to say something apologetic that they brushed off. They helped him up, and Marcy handed him a daisy out of a straggly bouquet that the runners had put together from the neighborhood. Alex walked him over to the graveside, and he dropped the daisy in, and then John led him to the car.

Back at the house, Burr took Teddie from Eliza and said, “I need to start taking care of my daughter. I’ll give her her bottle now.”

“We’re here for you, always,” Eliza told him.

“I know,” he said, “and I’m grateful. But it’s going to be her and me now, and I need to be her Dad.”

That night Peggy cried on Gil’s shoulder in bed, even though she would have sworn she had no more tears left. He held her and kissed her, and then began stroking her stomach gently.

“ _Je ferai pour toi un monde sain et sauf,”_ he murmured, and she knew he wasn’t talking to her.

* * * * *

The next day, Burr asked Alex to get out the letters that Desi had written. Alex had been hoping that he would wait a while, but it seemed that Burr wanted to move forward, and this was something he had to see to. There were three letters from Desi: one for Burr and one for Teddie, of course, and the third one was for Eliza. Burr handed it to her with the closest thing to a smile he could manage, and she took it into the kitchen, pulling Peggy and Angelica with her. “I can’t read this by myself,” she said.

 _Dear Eliza,_ Desi had written,

_Well, if you’re reading this, things didn’t go so great for me. On the other hand, if you’re reading it, at least one of us made it through alive, and I’m glad for that._

_I want to thank you, all of you really, but especially you, for being so kind to me. You all took me in and made me part of your family and I felt as if I suddenly had a whole gang of brothers and sisters. I had a pretty lonely childhood and you and Peggy and Angelica made me understand what sisters are like. It was so much fun to be a part of that, even for a little while. That night we gave you your lockets was the happiest time I’ve had, except for when Teddie was born (don’t tell Aaron, because he thinks our first ‘I love you’s’ were better). I felt so good being able to do something for you, after all you had done for me._

_There is so much love in that crazy house with all of you – you and Alex and John, whatever you’ve got going on, it’s so easy to see how much you love each other. And Peggy and Gil and Katie (and now the new baby!) are just so darned cute. And Herc, pretending to be so cool all the time, but you know what a softie he is. And Angelica (hi, Angelica!), you are the most badass fighting woman I know. Damn, I’m going to miss you guys!_

_I don’t know what happens after we die, so I don’t know where I am now, or even if I am now, but I’d like to think that somehow, somewhere, I still exist. I hope that I’m able to know what’s happening with all of you. I know Aaron will talk to me sometimes, and he’ll teach Teddie to talk to me. Maybe I’ll be able to hear prayers. I don’t know. But if you could, I’d appreciate it if you just send a word up from time to time. Let me know if Peggy and Gil have a boy or a girl. Let me know how the first free elections go._

_They talk about heaven as if it’s happy all the time, but that’s hard for me to understand. I spent my whole childhood longing for a family, and I finally got one. I seems to me like now I’ll be lonely again._

_I’m just going to put that aside, and maybe God, if he’s here, will explain it to me._

_Anyway, I love you so much, and I want you to know that, and please tell every single person there that I love them too – oh, damn, I almost forgot the Laurens kids: Marcy, I love you to pieces, girl, you are amazing, Harry and James, do everything you can to grow up to be fine men like your brother John, and Polly, you are so sweet. XXXXOOOO_

_I wish Teddie could know me growing up, but I know you will tell her about me. Please tell all the kids who I was. Marcy will remember me, and maybe the boys, but tell Peggy that when she reads those bedtime stories to the little kids, maybe sometime she can tell Katie and Polly – and someday her own babies – my story too. That way I can still be part of their lives, even if we never met in person._

_Just one more thing, Eliza, please keep an eye on Aaron for me. He’s a good, good man, and I know he’ll be a wonderful father. If love comes his way again, I want him to go for it, dive in and get all the happiness he can, just like we did in the time we had. Remind him of that if you need to._

_I guess that’s all, except I can’t say I love you all enough times._

_Lots of love and XXXX to all,_

_Desi_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of us have the responsibilities to tell the stories of those we love. Grandparents, friends, everyone who leaves us has a story, and as long as their story gets told, they live in memory.  
> Desi's story will be told by those who loved her.  
> This was the toughest chapter to write. That letter killed me.  
> Love and gratitude to all of you always. Thank you so much for letting me tell this story. XXXOOO


	52. More Than Willing to Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Second Insurrection is drawing to a close. There is one final Mission that has to be accomplished.

The General was getting worried that Judge Shippen was drawing sympathetic attention because of Sadie’s death. It wouldn’t take much for a faction to form, so the pressure was on Alex and Tony to eliminate the judge. Headquarters wanted it done in a way that would look like an accident. They didn’t want the judge to lead a counter insurrection, but they also didn’t want to make him a martyr.

There were six of them working on it now: Alex, Tony, John, Herc, Jack, and Angelica. They were in the kitchen at Grammy Nell’s house, drinking tea and throwing ideas around.

“If it’s going to be an accident, we have to get him out of his house,” Tony said. “Our first step, then, is to plan how to do that.”

“He’s still communicating with people,” Alex reminded him. “It’s not like he’s become a recluse, but with the courts suspended because of the insurrection, he’s not leaving the house for work, and he’s got people who do shopping and that sort of thing for him.”

“So why else do people leave their homes, other than work and shopping?” John asked, looking around the table.

“Meeting friends,” Angelica suggested.

“Doctor or dentist appointments,” Herc offered.

“Haircuts?” Jack shrugged.

“We want him alone,” Tony pointed out.

“We could manage one or two other guys if we had to,” John said.

Angelica waved her hand impatiently. “Seriously, though, any appointments would be initiated by the judge himself. There’s not going to be any way we would know when he was going out.”

“Is Maddie monitoring his phone lines?” Herc asked.

“Sometimes,” Alex responded. “They keep trying new blocking programs, so she misses some transmissions while she’s reprogramming things.”

“She’s good, though,” John put in. “She has done a hell of a job getting channels for the General to broadcast on.”

“Absolutely true,” Angelica agreed politely, and Alex shot her a look.

“But?” he asked.

“No but,” Angelica said. “Her work is outstanding. She’s just, you know …”

“Boring?”

“Mm-hm, and she still has no sense of humor. I think she and TJ are really serious, though.”

“We are not going to let this meeting go in that direction,” Tony reminded them sternly. “What have we got, if we can’t set up an appointment for the judge to see his doctor or barber?”

“He can leave the house to meet with friends,” Alex said. “The invitation can come from outside.”

“So we pretend to be one of his friends and, what, invite him over for dinner?” Herc asked.

“Not exactly,” Alex replied. He looked around the table. “Who do we know who has actually talked to Judge Shippen?”

They all looked puzzled, and then suddenly John got it. “Gil!” he said.

Alex nodded. “Right! Gil called him, using the name Paul Charles and claiming to be a friend of Sadie’s. What if Paul Charles was so touched by Sadie’s death that he wants to memorialize her in some way? Wouldn’t the judge want to meet with him?”

“Or the judge might just invite him to his home,” Tony cautioned.

“But let’s say Paul Charles was offering to infiltrate the insurrection. Let’s say he was so distressed by Sadie’s death that he wanted to avenge her by working undercover in the Movement and reporting back to Judge Shippen.”

“Holy shit,” Angelica gasped. “You want Gil to be a spy.”

* * * * *

Burr had asked Annie about books he could read that would help him cope with being a single parent of a baby girl. She had made some recommendations, but they were hard to find, so Marcy had organized the runners to try to locate some used copies. Becky Jenkins was proud to find a set of the _What to Expect_ books. They were paperback and pretty beat up, but Burr was grateful for them nonetheless. He gave Peggy the first one in the series, and then studied the rest like textbooks, watching Teddie to be sure she was meeting all the milestones.

Teddie was smiling and babbling at everybody, and Peggy’s heart ached every time she thought of Desi. After reading Desi’s letter, she had made a solemn promise to herself that she would tell all the children about her. When she gave Teddie a bottle, she would say, “You know, you look like your dad, but you have your mama’s name. Her name was Theodosia, but everybody called her Desi, and your name is Theodosia just like hers, but we call you Teddie. She loved you more than anything in the world.” The first time somebody walked in on her having this one-way conversation, she felt self-conscious, but it was John, and he hugged her and Teddie, and they both cried for a while. A few days later, she found John doing the same thing. _Don’t worry, Desi,_ she said silently. _We’ll tell your story._

Things were staying pretty calm in Philadelphia, but according to Headquarters, there were parts of the country where it was going far otherwise. Charleston had finally settled down, thanks to help from Pittsburgh, and most of the trouble now seemed to be in the Southwest. Ethan was taking a squad to Dallas to help reorganize there and put down what seemed to be a growing secessionist faction. The last thing the General wanted was a fractured country.

“The thing is,” Alex said at dinner, “until every major city, at least, is under control, the General can’t set up a national government. Two things are holding him back right now. The first and foremost is, of course, that King refuses to surrender or even negotiate. He must know by now that he’s not going to win, but there he sits in the capital, barricaded behind the walls. We don’t want to march in and drag him out, although that’s an option we’re keeping open. The other issue is the last few cities like Dallas and Phoenix. Ethan should be able to help with those now that Boston is secure.”

“How much longer do you think?” Eliza asked.

“Could be a month, could be even a couple of weeks. Our job here is to keep the peace and make sure there’s no counter-uprising in favor of King.”

“I don’t hear anything in favor of King on the streets,” Herc said. “With the classifications abolished, people are doing more business. There’s more available at the stores. They’re reading Hall’s newsletter for reliable information. I’d say the mood is good.”

“You’re right,” Alex agreed, “but it’s not the people who used to be Hopes and Deplos that we have to worry about. It’s the last few Haves who feel their power slipping away. The Shippen family is the best example.”

“That includes Ben Arnold, right?” Gil asked.

Alex nodded. “Him and this guy André Johns. He might just be a hanger-on, but we’ve had some local guys watch the judge’s house, and Johns seems to be there all the time. I don’t really think that the judge is going to lead a counter-insurrection. He’s not a young man, and he’s recently lost his daughter. My real concern is that he’ll end up being the figurehead for a faction led by Ben Arnold and maybe André Johns. We have to be sure we prevent that.”

“How?” Peggy asked.

“We’re having a meeting after dinner,” Alex said. “As soon as we’re cleaned up and the kids are in bed, we need to talk.”

Burr looked up, “Alex, I know you don’t need me there, but would you mind if I sat in?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Alex told him. “I’d appreciate your input.”

“Thanks,” Burr said. “I’d like to be useful.”

A while later they gathered in the living room, too crowded as always, but everyone hesitating, painfully aware that comfy chair had been Desi’s place. For a few minutes, they stood awkwardly, not wanting to sit there, not wanting to obviously avoid it, and then Eliza, chin up, sat down in the comfy chair and pulled out her knitting.

“You know Desi’s laughing at us for that, right?” she said, smiling through tears, and she was right. Desi would have thought it was hilarious that they were treating her chair like some kind of shrine. “I’ve got a lot of knitting to do before Baby Motier arrives,” Eliza continued, “so dibs on this chair till further notice.”

They were able to relax at that, even Burr – especially Burr, who didn’t want them to avoid talking about Desi. He smiled at Eliza and took a seat on the floor.

Tony was busy working out some patrol issues with Roger Stayner, so he sent Jack and Molly, and of course Angelica. They knew that the mission they were going to discuss could well be the last major operation of the Second Insurrection, at least for them. If they were going to succeed, they had to eliminate the possibility of a counter-insurrectionist faction organizing around Judge Shippen or Ben Arnold.

“Here’s what I’m hearing from Headquarters,” Alex began. “The General is very concerned about what Ben Arnold might be up to. He’s shown in the past that his only loyalty is to himself. The General knew him well when he worked for President Washington, and didn’t much like him then. He questions why Ben decided to come back from Europe now, in the midst of the insurrection, when he could have stayed there until it was over.”

“What’s Maddie picking up on the phones?” Jack asked.

“Not much,” Alex responded. “Ben Arnold’s got better phone security than Judge Shippen.”

Molly frowned. “I don’t understand why Headquarters is so determined to take out Judge Shippen when it seems like Ben Arnold is more of a problem.”

“The plan seems to be that they’ll set up Judge Shippen as a figurehead, with Ben Arnold being the power behind the throne. Arnold’s career has been controversial enough that he’d have a hard time gaining power on his own. Remember how many times he changed sides,” Alex said.

“That makes sense,” John agreed. “Nobody trusts Ben Arnold, but they can present the judge as a wise older man. Do you know what part André Johns plays in this?”

“Maddie thinks he’s an ally of Ben Arnold,” Alex responded.

“Looked more like an ally of Arnold’s wife,” Herc commented.

“They were in college together, so maybe they’re old friends,” Alex said. “Anyway, we need to focus on the judge. The General doesn’t believe that either Ben Arnold or André Johns would be successful on his own, but the judge could be. You saw how he made sure that Sadie Shippen was portrayed in the media as a martyr. If we didn’t know better, it would be quite convincing. If the judge builds on that, he could get a successful anti-insurrection faction going. We’re on the verge of success now, and we don’t want that to happen.”

“So we’re just going to kill him?” Molly asked.

“Bluntly, yes,” Alex responded.

Molly shifted in her chair. “Look, I know this comes from headquarters, but it’s not about fighting a battle. It’s assassination, plain and simple.”

“Yes,” Alex said, his face expressionless.

Molly looked around the room, and then finally at Jack. “Is this what we do now?” she asked. “Kill a man who hasn’t actually done anything because of what he might do? Isn’t that an awful lot like King’s pre-emptive arrests?”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Molly stood up. “Jack?” she queried, leaning toward him.

Jack looked away for a moment and then faced her. “Yeah, this is what we do in this case. In a very few cases.” His jaw was set. “We’re this close, Molly. This close after years of hiding out and fighting in the Movement, living in the woods, going hungry. Yeah, we do this.”

“No,” she said.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Alex asked.

“I mean I won’t do it,” Molly declared. “I won’t be part of it.”

“Fine,” Alex agreed tersely. “You don’t have to be.”

“Oh, you mean I’ll get that night off?” Molly demanded, her temper rising. “Oh, lucky me, I won’t have to be the one to shoot an innocent man.”

“Molly, stop,” Jack said.

She turned on him. “No, I won’t stop. Are you listening to what Alex is saying? You know I’ll go out right now and fight a battle. You know I’ll defend myself or anyone else against King’s forces. You know I _have._ But this – no. This is the exact opposite of what we’ve been fighting for.”

John shot a look at Angelica, and the two of them stood up. “Everybody take a breath,” John said.

Molly spun around to glare at John. “I don’t need a fucking breath,” she told him. “Are you going to tell me that you’re okay with this?”

John met her gaze. “I can live with it,” he said. “It’s been a long road, Molly, and we’ve all done things that, God help me, I won’t ever tell my kids or grandkids. There’s not one of us who hasn’t had to break laws or rules or moral codes or whatever you want to call it. We’ve lied, cheated, stolen, and killed. We haven’t done it for ourselves, but for the greater good. We’ve done it because achieving our goal was more important than following whatever rules were in place.”

“The end justifies the means?” Molly asked sarcastically.

“Yeah.”

“Not always.”

“Okay,” John shrugged, “maybe not. But sometimes it does, and the end, here, is a free government and a better future for all of us and our children and grandchildren. It’s a judgment call, Molly, and the General has made the judgment.”

“Fuck the General,” she said through her teeth. “He’s wrong on this.”

Jack stood up and put his hand on her arm gently. She shook it off angrily, not even looking at him.

Angelica stepped closer to her. “Come on, Molly,” she said softly. “You know how often we disagree with strategies from Headquarters. We’re never all going to see everything the same way. That’s why there’s a command structure. We don’t make every decision ourselves as individuals. That would be crazy, and we’d never accomplish anything. But we can’t just say we won’t follow orders. Especially not now.”

Molly looked straight at her. “I’m not following this order,” she stated flatly.

Alex stood up. “Sit back down, you guys,” he said. “Herc, go get Tony. Tell him I don’t care what he’s doing. He needs to be here right now. No more discussion till he’s here.”

There was an extremely uncomfortable silence for the fifteen minutes that Herc was gone, interrupted only by the clicking of Eliza’s knitting needles and Teddie’s occasional babbling. Peggy clutched Gil’s hand and wished she could talk to him. His face was blank, and she had no idea what he was thinking, but his hand was warm, and his thumb slid back and forth across her palm. She understood Molly’s objection to what was being planned. Killing Judge Shippen outright would be a terrible thing, and it might well haunt them all for years. She also understood, though, why the General was ordering it. A strong anti-insurrection faction could defeat everything they had fought for.

Tony came in with Herc and Roger, looking both angry and baffled. “What the hell, Alex?” he demanded.

Alex jerked his head at Molly, who was still standing defiantly in the middle of the room. Tony raised his eyebrows at her.

“I won’t be part of this assassination of Judge Shippen,” Molly declared.

Tony had no time for discussion. “Too fucking bad, Molly. It’s an order.”

“I won’t do it,” Molly repeated.

“Fine,” Tony shrugged. “You’re confined to quarters until further notice. Do I have your word that you’ll stay there or do I need to lock you in?”

Two bright spots of color were burning on Molly’s face. “I’ll stay in my room like a good girl,” she said, the sarcasm clear.

Tony turned to Jack. “Go get your stuff out of the room and bring it over here. You can sleep on a couch here until I deal with Molly, but you can’t stay in the same room.”

“Jesus, Tony,” Jack started, and then stepped back as Tony got about six inches from his face.

“Shut the fuck up and do what I told you to do,” Tony told him through clenched teeth. “Get it done and get back here, so I can get Molly over there and stop wasting time on this shit.”

Jack turned on his heel and left, and there was another excruciating quarter hour of silence. Eliza kept knitting.

Jack returned with a bag of his belongings and dumped them in a corner.

Tony turned and faced Molly, “Colonel Hays, you are relieved of duty,” he said formally. “Captain Stayner will escort you to your quarters where you will remain until further notice.” He nodded to Roger who followed Molly closely as she stamped out the door. Tony watched her go and shook his head resignedly.

“We good?” he asked Alex calmly.

Alex nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Your guys all on board with this?”

“As far as we have to be. Nobody likes it.”

Tony gave a bitter laugh. “It’s an order. We don’t have to like it, just follow it. If the General orders me to storm Hell, then I storm Hell. I don’t argue that it’s too hot.”

“Hell’s not easily conquered,” Alex said, his face unreadable.

“We’re almost there, Alex. One more push, one more assault – our final Mission. Let’s get it done.” He held out his hand and Alex took it. They stood like that for a moment, eyes meeting, then Tony sketched a salute and was out the door.

Alex’s gaze followed him, and then he turned back to the room. “Jack?” he asked.

Jack held up his hand. “Not now,” he muttered. “I’ll be fine.”

Alex didn’t push it. He sat down and took a breath. “All right,” he said, “let’s get back to where we were. We need a plan that will put Judge Shippen in a position where his death will look like an accident. Obviously, in order to do that, we need to draw him out of his house so that we can control the situation. I think we have a unique opportunity to do that.” He looked at Gil. “You had a friendly conversation with the judge not long ago, right?”

Gil nodded, “Yes.”

“And he believed you were a friend of Sadie’s?”

“He seemed to.”

“Then I think we can build on that.”

“All right,” Gil said noncommittally, watching Alex’s face.

Alex leaned forward. “Let’s continue with what you started. You’re a friend of Sadie’s, shocked and upset by her death. You totally buy into the judge’s story that Sadie was a martyr, killed by these wicked seditionists. You contact the judge and offer to join up with the Insurrection, where you may know a few people, in order to get information for him.”

“I offer to spy on us?” Gil asked.

“Essentially.”

“Go on.”

Peggy felt cold, even though the room was warm. What was Alex talking about? Why did it have to be Gil? She squeezed Gil’s hand hard, and he returned the pressure, but kept his eyes on Alex.

“You won’t want to go to the judge’s house,” Alex went on, “because that would compromise your cover, so at some point, you need to meet him in a neutral location. You get him into a car, and we more or less take it from there.”

“Take it where?”

"Can you swim?" Alex asked.

"Yes. Why?"

"You swim well?"

"Yes."

"Really well?"

"Yes. _Why?_ "

"You may need you to get out of a car underwater."

Gil thought for a minute.

"Would I be in the front or the back?"

"Front, we hope."

"Hope?"

A shrug.

Another pause for thought.

"Doors locked?"

"Yes."

"Will I have a way to break the window?"

"Yes. We'll make sure there's a tool in the car. It will be one of our cars."

A smile. "Which one are we sacrificing, the Kia?"

"The Acura."

"Shit," said John. "That's my car."

"The Kia won't fit the backstory," Alex said.

"Plus it's yours," John pointed out bitterly.

"Tony has changed the titles on those cars so often that none of them legally belong to anybody anymore."

Peggy knew they were talking about the cars to give Gil time to think. She realized that her right hand was over her belly protectively, her left still clinging to her husband.

"All right," Gil said.

"Gil…” Peggy’s voice was a thin thread of sound.

"I'm the only one who can do it," he said.

"We'll all be right there," Alex told him.

"But not actually in the car," he said with a twisted smile.

"You could die," she whispered.

"I am more than willing to die," he told her, "if it means we succeed."

How could he say that? How could he be so thoughtless of her and Katie and the baby?

"The greater good?" Alex asked lightly, the words in invisible quotation marks.

_"Exactement."_

Alex looked around the room. “Can we all get behind this?”

Peggy’s eyes went from one beloved ally to another – her sisters, John, Herc, Jack, and finally Burr. His face was filled with compassion. He was the only one there who understood what the risk was. Please say no, her eyes begged him. Please tell Alex this is a terrible idea. Almost imperceptibly, he shook his head. Whatever misgivings he had had about Desi fighting, he had not voiced them. It had been her decision, and he had stood with her unequivocally. Desi, like Gil, had believed that the fight was worth the risk. The others were looking at her. _What if I say no,_ she asked herself. _What if I say I’m not behind it? Then I’m doing the same thing Molly did, saying my judgment is better than everybody else’s._

She turned to Gil and saw that he was looking down at her, his face gentle, but his jaw set. She could no more tell him not to go than she could tell him not to breathe. Time and again, he had said that he would do whatever it took for the fighting to be over so that they could have their life. He had always known the risks, and he had gone anyway – blowing up the bridge, raiding clinics, destroying the condos, fighting on the streets. That was who he was, and she loved him. She couldn’t ask him to be a different person.

She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she nodded, and he kissed her, his hand tightening around hers. That was what they had all been waiting for.

“All right,” Gil said to Alex, “let’s talk about how I will approach the judge.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General Anthony Wayne once said to General George Washington, "Issue the orders, Sir, and I will storm Hell." I love the line, so I used it here. The question is raised in this chapter and the next about military orders and personal conscience. I'm willing to raise the question and admit that I don't have the answer. I suppose we've all got a line that we won't cross. Molly won't participate in the assassination of Judge Shippen. That's her line, and in refusing to cross it, she will deal with some consequences. As for the rest of them, as John points out, they have all done or will do things that they will not want to talk about later. War is hell.  
> So Gil is off on maybe his most dangerous Mission, and Peggy -- again! -- has to wait for him to come home. We'll see how it goes.  
> The Second Insurrection will conclude in the next few chapters, and our squad will find themselves in a very different situation. Changes are coming.  
> Thank you all for reading and leaving kudos and commenting. I love hearing from you!


	53. Places to Take a Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil cultivates a relationship with Judge Shippen. Meanwhile, other relationships grow, change, or fall apart.

Katie was having another “sleepover” in Marcy and Polly’s room, so they were truly alone, something that didn’t happen very often. Gil had locked the door, and they stood there in the dark, their arms around one another. _I need to remember this,_ Peggy thought. _I need to remember how he feels._ She pressed her face into his chest, breathing in his smell – soap mostly, she thought, smiling a little. She would remember that.

He sighed and kissed the top of her head, then took her face in his hands. _“Tu comprends, chérie.”_ It wasn’t a question.

 _“Je te connais,”_ she told him. “I know who I married.”

Knowing he couldn’t see it any other way didn’t make it easier for her, but at least there was nothing to argue about. From the moment they met, she had known who he was, just as to him she was as transparent as glass. It took them weeks, months maybe, to learn details about each other, but she had known in a moment that she trusted him absolutely, and that her life was tied to his. That first night, only hours after they had met, she had lain in bed with him, wrapped in his arms, beloved and protected.

She nuzzled into his neck, and he made a sound almost like a sob and picked her up. He sat down on the bed with her in his lap, as he had done a hundred times. _I have to remember this,_ she thought. _I have to remember how it feels when he lifts me up off the floor like that. I have to remember how safe I feel with him, even when I know we’re not safe. Even when I know there’s really no such thing as safety on this earth._

She really hadn’t meant to cry. Sitting downstairs with everyone, listening to Alex and John and Gil put together the plan, she hadn’t cried, and she thought if she could keep herself under control then, she’d be all right later. She wasn’t, though.

“When it’s over,” she said – and how many times had they started a sentence that way in the last few years? “When it’s over, I won’t cry for a year, I promise.”

 _“Sh, mon petit mouton,”_ he murmured into her hair, “don’t make such foolish promises. We cry when we need to cry. Maybe there will be tears of joy.”

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

“I know, _chérie._ So am I.”

“I need you.”

He kissed her eyelids and the tears on her cheeks. _“Je t’aime, mon coeur.”_ _My heart._ Who had said that loving someone was like wearing your heart outside of your body, vulnerable to every danger? Wherever Gil went, her heart went with him, and if he died, her heart would die too, she was sure.

He kept kissing her face. She tilted her head so that he could reach her mouth, and she felt him smile. _I have to remember what it feels like when he smiles against my mouth. I have to remember how it feels when his tongue slides across my lips so that I want to open my mouth. He has the most beautiful mouth I’ve ever seen. I hope our baby has his mouth._

His tongue explored her mouth gently, and she wanted more. She tangled both hands in his curls and held his head to keep his mouth on hers. He pulled her down with him, one hand holding her head, one on the small of her back, pressing himself against her. _I have to remember,_ she thought again, but he was pulling her clothes off, and she stopped thinking, giving herself up to feeling, arching her back to push her breasts into his beautiful mouth, opening her legs to make space for him, rubbing against him, feeling herself getting wet and slippery, wanting more of him. He covered her belly with kisses, murmuring words she couldn’t make out, talking to their baby, and then she felt his tongue and gasped as he slid his fingers into her, and she still wanted more. She lifted her hips toward him, and he raised his head, wiping her off his mouth with the back of his hand, and meeting her eyes, and he was everything she’d ever wanted. He pulled back and then filled her all at once, big, hard, demanding. She drew her knees up to take in more of him, gasping as he pressed harder and loving the way it felt. His fingers slid over her, slipping in her wetness, moving faster as he rocked against her. They were both impatient and knew each other’s bodies so well that they gave and took at the same time. She felt herself start to fall, felt the waves beginning, and then knew that he met her in the middle of it, pushing her even further. _I have to remember,_ she told herself.

* * * * *

Alex had verified that Lieutenant Warner was still in custody and had had no opportunity to contact Judge Shippen Then he had given Gil a phone that he would use to contact the judge, and had made sure that any trace on the phone would lead back to Paul Charles, Hope language consultant. There was no reason that a call from Paul Charles should make the judge suspicious. In their first phone call, Gil had spoken of Sadie as a friend. Now he built on that a little, making it sound as if he might have had some romantic interest in her, only dissuaded from acting on it by his friendship with Herc. The judge was more than willing to hear flattering statements about Sadie. She’d always been his difficult daughter, unsettled, having a hard time completing her college courses, getting into minor difficulties with unpleasant boyfriends or DWI’s that he had to fix off the record. Talking to Paul Charles helped him persuade himself that Sadie had been the person he wanted her to be, just misled by some of her friends. By the time he’d had three or four phone calls with Gil, he had become convinced that if Sadie had lived, she would have married this man. Only her tragic death had destroyed the happy ending that the judge was constructing in his own mind.

Gil gradually let it be known that he had supported the Movement early on, but had become disillusioned with it. He complained about the arrogant bastard Alexander Hamilton running the city (in the full hearing of Alex, with John dying laughing across the room). He talked about his own ambition to be qualified as a Have in the near future and commented on Deplos with a sort of reserved disgust. He said everything he knew the judge wanted to hear until the main topic of their conversations began to move away from his grief over Sadie and onto political grounds. At that point, Gil could plausibly suggest that they meet in person.

“I would like to have the opportunity to talk with you sometime soon,” he said. “If we were to meet over a cup of coffee or a drink, we could speak unreservedly.” He stressed the last word just a little. The judge knew that his phone was tapped at least some of the time, despite the best efforts of his son-in-law Ben Arnold and what remained of the Greater police force in the city.

“I would be delighted to have you here to dinner some evening,” the judge suggested.

“I would be honored, sir,” Gil responded courteously, “but I think I might be more useful to you if I were not seen coming and going from your home.”

Judge Shippen hesitated for a moment, thinking over what the implications of “useful” might be.

“Yes, I see what you mean,” he said finally. “I rarely go out on my own, though. Sadly, the city is not as safe as it once was. Perhaps you would agree to meet with my son-in-law as well, or possibly with our friend André.”

Gil glanced over at Alex, who was monitoring the conversation, and raised his eyebrows. Alex nodded. “But of course. I would be delighted.”

It remained only to set up a time and place, and Gil persuaded the judge to meet with him at a pleasant but out-of-the-way café. The meeting was set up for a weekday evening when the place was less likely to be crowded, and Gil agreed to meet the judge and whoever else he brought at seven. Jack, Joe, and Liz, who could still be anonymous in the city, would also be there, Jack alone at the bar, and Joe and Liz acting like a couple on a date at a nearby table. They were all armed, and Liz wore a long black wig that hid her red hair. They didn’t really expect anything to go wrong, but it was safer to have back-up.

Gil tied his hair back neatly and wore a button-down shirt. He had a gun in an ankle holster that he had practiced accessing for a week. He was pretty fast on it now. Fast enough, anyway, he hoped.

He was seated alone at a table, sipping tonic water with just a splash of gin in it. Keeping a clear head was essential, but he had to maintain his cover. He was a little disappointed when Judge Shippen arrived with André Johns instead of Ben Arnold, but there was undoubtedly information to be had from Johns as well if he paid attention. Johns was one of those guys who was so handsome he was almost pretty, with wavy blond hair, striking blue eyes and long eyelashes. His smile revealed perfectly even, perfectly white teeth. Herc had said that he was quite the ladies’ man and he’d been friends – or possibly more – with Meg Shippen before she married Ben Arnold. Gil wasn’t the least bit interested in his current relationship with Meg for salacious reasons, but if he had any plans to advance the judge as a leader against the insurrection, he wanted to know about it. They ordered drinks and then the judge started asking questions about Alexander Hamilton. Gil wasn’t surprised; he and Alex had anticipated this, and he had answered prepared.

“Where is he from, anyway?” Judge Shippen asked.

Gil shrugged disdainfully. “I’m not sure. Some island in the Caribbean.”

“So he’s not even a citizen?”

“Well,” Gil replied, “he says he is. He says he was naturalized.”

The judge and Johns exchanged looks. “This is why those laws need to be revised,” the judge declared, and Johns nodded. “For years, all kinds of riff-raff have been allowed in, and then they’ve been allowed to become citizens, and now look where we are.”

“Surely there is a way to revoke naturalization,” Johns said.

“Well, of course there is under President King, but these people want to go back to Washington’s government and the old Constitution, and that would mean letting in more troublemakers like this Hamilton.”

“Hamilton is indeed a rabble rouser,” Gil agreed.

“Do you know him personally?” the judge asked.

“I’ve met him.”

“Is he as good a speaker as they say?”

Gil considered for a moment. “He’s good, but probably not quite as good as he thinks he is.”

“Do you know where he’s headquartered?” Johns asked, leaning forward.

“I don’t, but I might be able to find out. I know a few people who consider themselves part of this Movement, and I could, let’s say, become more interested in it. I might learn about Hamilton or some of the others.”

“Is it true that Henry Laurens’s son is one of the leaders in this sedition?” the judge asked.

“Yes, I believe John Laurens is his son.”

The judge shook his head sorrowfully. “Poor Henry must be rolling over in his grave. How did John Laurens get mixed up in this?”

“I’ve heard that he was a college friend of Hamilton,” Gil said. “Perhaps Hamilton corrupted him.”

André Johns looked at Gil through narrowed eyes. “Does that mean what I think it means?” he asked.

Gil shrugged. “I have no idea what you think, but take it however you like.” He sipped his drink, meeting the other man’s gaze. He didn’t like André Johns at all, and he was here to negotiate with the judge, not this hanger-on.

“So you think you might be able to find out where Hamilton’s base of operations is?” the judge wanted to know.

“I could certainly try,” Gil said. “They have no reason to be suspicious of me.”

“What do you want in return?” Johns asked bluntly.

Gil shoved his chair back and turned his gaze deliberately to the judge. “Is that your question as well, sir?”

The judge looked flustered. “Now, Paul, you were my Sadie’s friend. These seditionists killed her, and you and I both know what a heartache that has been. I believe that you want to help me for Sadie’s sake, not for selfish reasons.” He turned to Johns. “André, I don’t think you understand. Paul was very close to Sadie.”

“Meg never heard of him,” Johns said.

“I met Meg once, for about five minutes,” Gil told him. “She has no reason to remember me.”

Johns looked doubtful, but didn’t say anything.

“He’s not trying to get anything out of me,” the judge insisted.

Johns shrugged. “If you say so,” he said.

Was it the job of André Johns to protect the judge from con artists and exploitation, Gil wondered. Judge Shippen seemed pretty gullible, so maybe he needed someone like Johns to run interference for him. Gil could handle him. The one he really wanted to meet was Ben Arnold.

* * * * *

Gil met with the judge and André Johns twice more, offering scraps of information that really didn’t mean anything. The goal, of course, was to get Judge Shippen comfortable enough that he would come alone; better yet, that he would get into a car with Gil to be driven to an undisclosed location. That was going to take a while.

On his fourth meeting, Ben Arnold turned up. Gil had been able to dismiss André Johns as a lightweight, a guy who thought he was smart but could easily be outwitted. Ben Arnold was something else. For one thing, he was only about ten years younger than his father-in-law; for another, he had plenty of government experience of his own, and it would be almost impossible to deceive him about what the Movement was doing. They might be able to mislead him a little, but that was all.

Arnold spent a lot of time questioning Gil about his personal history, his supposed French Canadian mother, and his background in language education.

 _“Vous n’avez pas d’accent canadien,”_ Arnold said in perfect French. He’d been living in Europe, and he would easily be able to distinguish between a French-Canadian accent and the French of France.

Gil agreed with him pleasantly, _“Non, quand je suis allé à l’université, j’ai perdu mon accent canadien.”_ He switched to English with a very French shrug. “Fairly or unfairly, the accent of Paris is preferred in most places.”

“It is less provincial,” Arnold said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

 _“Tout à fait,”_ Gil concurred.

“And your father was American?” Arnold continued.

“Yes, he was from Philadelphia, which is how I came to live here.”

“How did your parents meet, then?”

“Oh, it’s quite a romantic tale,” Gil responded, deeply thankful for Alex’s meticulous and detailed backstories. “My mother was eighteen, vacationing with her parents and sister in Wildwood, New Jersey. My father was working at one of the souvenir shops on the Boardwalk.” Wildwood was a popular and busy shore resort. There were dozens of souvenir shops on the Boardwalk, and dozens more had gone in and out of business over the years. It would be impossible to check employment records from thirty years ago, especially if Gil couldn’t quite remember the name of the store. “My mother was trying to ask a question about some merchandise, and my father overheard her and asked in French if he could help. He had taken French in high school, you see. My eighteen-year-old mother was quite impressed by this handsome young man who spoke a little French and, as we say, _c’était le coup de foudre.”_

Alex had thought it was amusing to give Gil’s fictional parents a “love at first sight” story.

“How charming,” Arnold said blandly.

“Now, that’s a very nice story,” Judge Shippen commented, quite interested. “Did they get married that summer?”

“No,” Gil told him. “My mother went back to Canada with her parents and they corresponded and visited a few times and got married a couple of years later. My grandparents thought eighteen was a little too young.”

“Very wise of them,” the judge agreed. “Do your parents live in Philadelphia now?”

Gil shook his head somberly. “No, my father died in a boating accident when I was ten, and my mother died of cancer when I was in college.” And there were records to prove it if you check on those, he added silently, thankful again for Alex and Maddie’s computer hacking skills. He had no doubt whatsoever that Ben Arnold would be verifying everything he said. He shifted a little in his chair as if to find a more comfortable position, but in reality was checking that Liz and Jack were still seated at a table near the window. Liz’s wig was blond this time and she was wearing a black dress suitable for this more upscale restaurant, but Gil knew she had a gun in her purse and Jack had one in a shoulder holster under his suit jacket.

Over dinner, Gil passed on some information about a pro-insurrection newsletter that was supposedly being published out of an abandoned warehouse near the river. Alex had gotten help from David Hall and they had set the place up with some older printing equipment that David no longer needed. They’d even run off a few copies of a fake newsletter with a strongly pro-Hamilton editorial just to be sure it would annoy the anti-insurrection forces. Sure enough, the “newsletter” premises were raided a couple of days later, and everything was confiscated. David Hall said he was happy to donate his worn-out equipment and some paper to the cause, but claimed it was Alex himself who wrote the editorial.

Herc had grabbed a couple of copies of the editorial while they were setting the place up, and he was reading it aloud as they sat around after dinner the day after King’s police pompously announced they had stopped publication of treasonous communications.

“Alexander Hamilton,” Herc said, using his best newscaster voice, “is a brilliant and visionary political leader, whose eloquence is surpassed only by his genius. He alone has the ability to shape a prosperous and democratic nation under a free government to provide our future generations with constitutional and economic security.” He looked up at Alex across the room.

“You wrote this, didn’t you?”

Alex smiled, “Maybe.”

“It’s awful!” Eliza said.

“I know!” Alex agreed. “David said he’d never publish anything like that. It’s hilarious.”

“Is there more,” Gil asked, “or was that it?”

“Oh, there’s more,” Herc said. “Lots more.”

“You’d better give me a copy,” Gil told him, sighing. “I should be familiar with it. I’m sure everybody at the Shippen house will have read it.” Herc handed him a copy and he read through it, then handed it to Peggy, shaking his head in disbelief. “Seriously, there are people who don’t know that’s a joke?”

Alex pretended to be offended. “My abilities are highly respected.”

“It says here that you are the quintessential statesman,” Peggy commented, giggling.

Gil raised an eyebrow.

Alex shrugged. “So there are a lot of stupid people around.”

“You don’t think it’s just a tiny bit unwise to poke a stick in King’s eye?” Gil asked.

“Gil, that’s what we’ve been doing for five years. When we provoke them, they strike, and when they strike, we take them out.”

“I hope you’re right,” Gil told him. “I don’t seem to be having any luck getting the judge to meet me anywhere that’s not a very public place.”

“Keep working on it. He likes you, right?”

Gil nodded. “Apparently. Ben Arnold doesn’t, though. It’s obvious that he doesn’t trust me.”

“Well, that’s no surprise.”

“So how much longer do I have to play this game?”

“It’s not a game,” Alex reminded him.

“Then what is it?” Gil asked irritably. “I’m playing cat and mouse with the judge. I give him a little bit of information, then he passes it along to whatever Greaters are still operating. They act, like closing the “newsletter” operation, and then we start over. Nothing’s changing. The judge still has André Johns or Ben Arnold along on every meeting. There seems to be no chance of ever getting him in a position where we could fake an accident. How about we just use a sniper and be done with it?”

The room was silent for a minute while Gil and Alex stared at each other.

“Okay, I’ll take it under advisement,” Alex said finally.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’ll talk to Tony and then we’ll consult with Headquarters and see if they want to modify the plan in any way.”

“It seems like there’s been nothing but talking going on for weeks,” Gil said.

“You liked it better when we were shooting in the streets?”

“At least I felt like something was getting done.” Gil stopped and ran his hand over his hair. “Ah, fuck, I don’t mean that. I’m just frustrated.”

“It’s okay,” Alex told him. “Take a break. Don’t return the judge’s calls for a couple of days. Take your lovely wife to bed early. Pretty soon you’re going to be taking her out to dinner without worrying about being recognized. By the way, Peggy,” he added with a smirk, _“tu es adorable quand tu rougis.”_

“You just said that because you knew I was going to, didn’t you?” Gil asked.

“Yep. She is, though.”

Gil leaned over and kissed her. _“Oui.”_

* * * * *

When Angelica came over a couple of days later to talk to Alex about something, Peggy took her aside and asked her about Molly. They’d all been wondering, but Alex’s only response was that Tony was handling it, and Jack had been so surly that nobody dared mention Molly’s name in front of him. Peggy was glad to finally get a few minutes alone with Angelica to see what was going on.

“She’s on desk duty,” Angelica said briefly.

“What does that mean?” Peggy asked.

“Just what it sounds like. She’d not armed. She doesn’t leave the house. She does routine clerical work.” Angelica didn’t sound like she wanted to talk about it.

“What else?” Peggy asked, frowning.

“Why?”

“Oh, come on, Angelica, Molly’s a friend. She’s been with us through all of this. Don’t go all Colonel Schuyler on me and act like it’s none of my business.”

Angelica gave a reluctant smile. “All Colonel Schuyler?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Okay, here’s the thing. It’s possible Molly will be formally charged with insubordination and tried. Tony doesn’t really want that, but he had to report what happened to Headquarters, and now the decision is out of his hands. Seriously, Peggy, things are grim over there. I wish I could stay here, but there’s just no room.”

“How about Jack and Molly?”

“I don’t think there really is a Jack and Molly anymore.”

“Oh, wow. Really? I mean, maybe they’re mad but will get over it?”

“Maybe, but that’s not the way it’s looking to me.” She looked away for a minute. “I have a lot more experience than you do with break-ups, so I’m probably right on this.”

“Yeah, my only break-up was with Steve Pendleton, and you actually handled that,” Peggy responded, trying to make a joke.

“Wasn’t he the guy with his hand up your shirt at that Fourth of July party?” Angelica asked, smiling.

“That’s the one. You had a baseball bat, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. And I told him if he didn’t get his fucking hands off you, I’d break his arm.”

“His fucking arm, as I recall,” Peggy corrected.

“You were crying,” Angelica reminded her, suddenly serious. She put her arms around her little sister. “Nobody should ever make you cry.”

“I’m not sixteen anymore,” Peggy told her, “but thanks for wanting to protect me.”

“That was only three years ago,” Angelica said. “Look at all that has happened.”

Peggy stepped back and thought about it. It was July now, even though celebrating the Fourth was strictly forbidden. Only three years since she had sat on a blanket with Steve Pendleton trying to watch the fireworks, and he had suddenly shoved his hand up her shirt without a word, acting like she should be happy about it. She started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Angelica asked.

“Steve Pendleton,” Peggy said. “Just thinking about him and …” She put her hand up because she knew she was blushing.

Angelica’s mouth twitched. “The difference between a clumsy idiot and a man who knows what he’s doing?”

Peggy nodded, giggling. “Only three months after that, I met Gil.”

“Let me guess,” Angelica said. “Gil never shoved his hand up your shirt.”

“Good guess.”

Angelica laughed. “I’m glad you’ll never have to deal with another clumsy idiot.”

“Me too. I know how lucky I am. Still, idiots aside, I feel bad for Jack and Molly.”

“When I was sixteen, my boyfriend of the moment broke up with me. Do you remember him? Seth VanZant? You would have been about twelve, so you probably weren’t paying attention, but I thought the world had ended.”

“I remember,” Peggy said. “He stopped coming over, and you cried a lot.”

“Yeah, Mom sat me down and gave me a talk. She said, ‘If he’s not right for you, it’s better you found out sooner rather than later. If he is right for you, you’ll find your way back together.’ That was it. It’s pretty simple, but I think it’s true.”

“So, same thing for Jack and Molly? If it’s right, they’ll get back together?”

“I don’t see it, though. I think they’re over,” Angelica said.

“Well, then, in Mom’s words, ‘Better sooner than later.’”

Angelica nodded and gave her sister a hug. “I wish everybody could be in love like you and Gil are,” she said softly.

“Me too,” Peggy told her, and then hesitated a minute. “Ange –”

“Yeah?”

“How about you? Are you okay?”

“Sure, I’m fine. It’s … you know, life never goes the way you think it’s going to.”

“That’s true,” Peggy responded and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. As she watched Angelica go out the door, she thought about her and Alex. Whatever that was, if it had ever been anything, it was over. She hoped it hadn’t left Angelica lonely.

Much later that night, curled up against Gil in their bed, she said, “I’ll bet that even when you were sixteen, you never shoved your hand up a girl’s shirt without even talking to her.”

Gil was understandably startled. _“Comment, chérie?”_

“Angelica and I were talking this afternoon.”

“About sixteen-year-old boys shoving their hands up girls’ shirts?”

“Among other things.”

“I’m so sorry I missed that conversation.”

Peggy laughed. “I’m right, though, aren’t I?”

He thought for a minute. “I’ll just say that the action of shoving in general is not a suitable introduction to love-making.”

“Very true.”

“That being said, though …”

“What?”

“If one’s wife insists on wearing a shirt to bed …”

“Mm, that’s not shoving.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Do it some more.”

* * * * *

It took nearly two more weeks before Gil was able to convince the judge to meet him in a location other than a busy restaurant. Gil spun a story about taking him to meet with some other disaffected members of the Movement and said they’d have to go in his car because only Gil could know the location. He’d really pushed the idea that these were Sadie’s friends who wanted to help her father. That whole theme was pretty sickening, but it seemed to be effective.

“My son-in-law is concerned about my meeting with these people,” Judge Shippen told Gil on the phone, “but I think he’s being far too cautious. I’ve decided not to tell him when the meeting is planned.”

“I’m very glad to hear that,” Gil said, giving Alex a thumbs-up. “I have felt, unfortunately, that he doesn’t quite trust me.”

“Ben has had some challenging experiences,” the judge explained. “He’s a little more suspicious of his fellow man than he should be.”

“You’ll be able to meet me in the park, then, and we’ll go in my car to talk with Sadie’s friends?”

“Yes, I’ll be coming alone. André and Ben are both protective of me, but I can make my own judgments. I’ll just have my driver drop me off, and he can wait with the car.”

That wasn’t ideal, but apparently the judge no longer drove. The driver might find himself sitting in the car for a very long time, but it would surely be a few hours before he became alarmed, and by then, everything would be done. Gil agreed, and gave Judge Shippen precise instructions for the meeting point.

Fairmount Park covered over four thousand acres and much of it was forest. Gil would be meeting the judge on a narrow lane near an unused ball field at dusk. He’d get there early and be sure Joe and Liz were in place, hidden in the wooded area off the road. He hoped Judge Shippen’s driver wouldn’t argue about having to wait in such a deserted area, but stressed to the judge how nervous this group of possible defectors were and how important the secrecy was. He was beginning to get the feeling that the judge was enjoying this cloak and dagger nonsense, and that he was pleased with himself for outwitting Ben Arnold. Gil tried not to think about that, because the last thing he wanted was to have sympathetic feelings for Judge Shippen.

Gil parked the Acura behind the old ballfield fence, so it was out of the way. Joe and Liz found places among the trees where they wouldn’t be visible, and they settled in to wait. About half an hour later, he saw the judge’s Lincoln arrive from the east. He waited until it was about ten yards away and then got out of the Acura, leaning against it casually. The judge’s driver turned off the Lincoln’s engine and got out of the car, walking around behind it to open the door for Judge Shippen.

As the judge exited the car, the driver grabbed him, throwing his left arm around Judge Shippen’s neck in a headlock while he pointed what Gil immediately recognized as a Glock at the judge’s temple. Then for the first time he looked up and Gil saw his face clearly.

“Hello, Lafayette,” Jay Reynolds said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you knew Jay Reynolds would be back, didn't you? And where's Maria?  
> What's going to happen to the judge now?  
> How much longer until the Second Insurrection is really over? And then what?  
> Should I bring Steven Pendleton back just so Gil can beat him up?  
> As Angelica says, "Life never goes the way you think it’s going to."  
> Thank you all so much for staying with this very long story and for continuing to care about our squad and their friends (or even their enemies). Thanks especially for the kudos and comments that tell me what's working and help keep me motivated. I always love hearing from you. <3 <3 <3


	54. Lafayette Is There Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil has his hands full at the beginning and the end of this chapter, but the middle is a little easier on him.

“Shit,” Gil said. Any plans he had were now useless. He stood where he was, waiting for Jay Reynolds to make the first move. Joe and Liz would hold off until he gave them a signal.

Judge Shippen was struggling, and Jay pulled his arm a little tighter. The judge choked and stopped resisting.

“Didn’t expect to see me, did you?” Reynolds asked with a cocky grin.

“No,” Gil replied.

Jay clearly expected more, but Gil stayed where he was, watchful but silent.

“I work for Judge Shippen now,” Jay told him.

“I doubt that,” Gil said.

“What do you mean?”

“I expect that you lost your job the minute you put a gun to his head.”

Jay had to think this through. His mental rehearsal of this scene had included Lafayette panicking when he saw the judge being threatened, but that didn’t seem to be happening.

The judge tried to say something. “Shut up!” Jay told him, pressing the gun tighter to his head.

“Maybe you should hear what he has to say,” Gil suggested.

Jay thought some more, then loosened his arm a little. The judge coughed a couple of times and tried to get his breath. “He’s not – Lafayette,” the judge gasped. “Name’s Paul – Paul Charles. Told you.”

Jay laughed. “You think I’m stupid? I showed you his picture.”

The judge nodded weakly. “Right – told you – Paul Charles.”

“And you’re meeting Paul Charles because he’s spying on the Movement for you?”

The judge nodded again. His face was pale.

“You’re wrong about his name,” Jay told the judge, tightening his grasp again. “This is Lafayette. He’s some sort of important French guy.”

“I was mistaken for Lafayette once before, Judge,” Gil said. “You remember the first time I spoke with you. Apparently we resemble one another. As you said then, Lafayette has almost certainly returned to France. Even if he were still here, why would he risk his life spying on the Movement?”

The judge nodded as well as he could.

Gil looked at Jay. “Why are you threatening Judge Shippen? What do you want from me?”

Jay looked back and forth between the Judge and Gil, obviously growing more nervous. “Are you working for him?” he asked Gil.

“As he said,” Gil responded, “I am giving him some information on the Movement. The judge supports the legal government.”

“So you don’t want me to hurt him, right? If I shoot him, you don’t get paid.”

Was Jay Reynolds really that stupid? “All right,” Gil said cautiously. “Assuming that’s true, what do you want?”

Jay gave him a derisive look. “Money, of course. You pay me, I don’t shoot him.”

“Ah.” Yes, he really was that stupid. “I am afraid you’re out of luck. I have no money.”

“Don’t fuck with me,” Jay snapped. “First, I know all this Paul Charles stuff is bullshit. You’re Lafayette, and Lafayette is rich.”

Gil turned his hands palm up. “No money – well, maybe seven or eight dollars in my pocket. Feel free to search.”

Jay realized he couldn’t search and hold onto the judge as well. He stood indecisively, looking back and forth. “You can get it, though.”

Gil shook his head. “You’ve made a few mistakes in your calculations. If, as the judge says, I’m Paul Charles, I’m barely making ends meet. If, as you think, I’m Lafayette, I’m a foreign national in hiding with no access to my assets in France.”

Jay stared at him, trying to process this information. It had seemed so easy when he had planned it. Maria had told him he was wrong. She’d even called him stupid when he took the job with Judge Shippen.

“What good do you think that’s going to do?” she had asked him. “You think he’s going to hand you money because you knew Sadie?”

“No,” Jay had retorted. “I’m not even going to tell him I knew Sadie. I’m just going to wait and see – you know, figure out the lay of the land before I make a move.”

Maria had rolled her eyes at that. “’Lay of the land’?” she mocked. “You been reading mystery stories?”

He’d slapped her for that. She knew better than to make fun of him. And he’d showed her. He’d asked the judge careful questions, listened to conversations between the judge and the others in the house, the son-in-law, and the “family friend.” He’d heard them talking about the judge’s informant, who might be French. “French-Canadian,” the judge had said, but Ben Arnold had looked skeptical. “I don’t think so,” Arnold had replied. “There’s something familiar about him …”

After a couple of weeks, Jay had brought in the picture of Lafayette that Sadie had printed out for them. He’d shown it to the judge.

“I didn’t just shove it in his face,” he had told Maria later. “I told him that somebody I knew might know Paul Charles. I showed him the picture of Lafayette and asked if it was Paul Charles. When the judge said it was, I just said I’d tell my friend that wasn’t the informant, you know, to protect him. I got the judge thinking I was helping him.”

Jay had been very proud of this complicated process, but Maria had been critical.

“Judge Shippen didn’t ask how you happened to have a picture of Paul Charles?”

“No, I told him my friend gave it to me, and I wanted to check it out.”

“Your friend? The judge didn’t ask about your friend?”

“Yeah, he did, but I told him I didn’t want to give my friend’s name.”

Maria had been skeptical. “And the judge just went along with that?”

“Yeah,” Jay had told her, flushing. “He respects that kind of thing, you know, loyalty.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Maria had muttered, and Jay had grabbed her arm. She was lucky that time that he had managed to control himself when she disrespected him.

He’d finally convinced her, though, that his idea had a good chance of working. She was home now, waiting for him to get back with cash from this fancy-talking French guy. The vision of his triumphant return played like a blockbuster movie in his head. He’d toss the money on the table with a big smile, and Maria’d tell him how smart he was, and that he’d been right all along. She’d throw her arms around him and kiss him, and they’d fuck all night. Then in a day or two, they’d take the money and go to one of those beach places with pink sand that she was always talking about.

That was how it was supposed to go, but if he came back empty-handed and jobless, she’d laugh at him again.

Jay stared at Gil, trying to figure out if what he was saying about the money was true. How could he have money that he couldn’t get to? That was just stupid.

“I don’t believe you!” he declared defiantly. “You have to be able to get your own money.”

The judge squirmed again, apparently trying to confirm what Gil was saying, and Jay’s face showed his stress and confusion. Gil took the opportunity. Dropping quickly to one knee, he drew his gun and yelled, “Now!”

It sounded like a battlefield. Guns went off in front of and behind him, as he shot at Jay Reynolds. Both Reynolds and the judge went down, and then Joe and Liz were by his side, weapons in hand. The three of them advanced slowly. The sun was still not quite below the horizon, but they could see no movement.

“You suppose anybody heard that?” Liz asked.

“Assuming there’s someone within a mile who isn’t stone deaf, yeah,” Joe told her.

“We need to get out of here as fast as we can,” Gil said. He surveyed everything dispassionately. “That’s quite a mess, but at least we won’t have to sacrifice John’s Acura.”

All three of them had hit Jay Reynolds, one in the head and two in the chest. There was no doubt that he was dead. Judge Shippen was dead too. Whether Jay had killed him deliberately or whether the Glock had gone off by accident when the firing started, there was no way to tell. The Judge had been killed with one shot to the temple. The exit wound was a baseball-sized hole spilling blood, brains and bone splinters onto the ground.

“Let’s get going,” Liz urged, looking anywhere but at the carnage on the ground.

“Not quite yet,” Gil said. He picked up Reynolds’s gun. “I need something to wipe this with,” he told Joe. “Do we have any rags in the car?”

Joe went to check while Liz stood listening for the sound of sirens. Joe came back after a couple of minutes with a ragged sweatshirt.

“Perfect,” Gil said. He removed the shells that were left in the Glock and polished them carefully. Then he coolly and meticulously pressed Judge Shippen’s dead fingers onto each shell and reloaded the gun, using a corner of his shirt to shield his own fingers. That done, he wiped the outside of the gun thoroughly, pressed the judge’s hand around it, and left it there. “Judge Shippen committed suicide,” he announced, wiping his hands on the sweatshirt.

“Who killed the other guy?” Liz asked, her eyes on the road.

“Hard to know,” Gil said. “He was probably going to expose the judge, and the judge had him killed.”

“Expose the judge for what?” Joe wanted to know.

Gil shrugged. “Corruption? Seditionist sympathies? Aberrant sexual activities? Who knows? It will be whatever rumor Alex thinks will be most believable.”

Liz let her eyes come back to the two bodies lying in a pool of blood on the ground. She swallowed hard. “Are we just going to leave them here?”

Gil nodded slowly. “The original plan was to stage an accident. That went out the window when Jay Reynolds showed up. We’ve managed to stage a suicide, and the details are muddy enough that Ben Arnold is going to want to keep them quiet.”

“And we didn’t have to assassinate an unarmed man,” Liz added.

“Jay Reynolds did it for us,” Gil said. “Maybe we should be grateful.”

They looked at the gruesome mess on the ground. Gratitude wasn’t what any of them were feeling.

Gil took a breath and started for the car. “Let’s get going. We’ll be home in an hour.”

* * * * *

Over the next week or so, there were unconfirmed reports about Judge Shippen’s involvement with some criminal elements. Meg and Ben Arnold denied the stories vehemently, as did the other two surviving Shippen daughters from the west coast. André Johns spoke in an interview in defense of the judge, but made things worse when he was questioned about the judge’s interaction with known members of the Movement and couldn’t come up with a clear answer. Eventually, the Shippen family seemed to decide that silence was their best defense against rumor and stopped talking publicly.

Alex informed everyone that Ethan had worked with the Movement members in Dallas to resolve the problems they had been having. He returned to Boston, leaving Matt Lyon there to act as liaison with the local factions. Intelligence from TJ in Norfolk and Ben Contee in Baltimore stated that the capital was almost empty of ordinary citizens, and that it was only a matter of time – a short time – until King gave up.

Their own life in Philadelphia seemed almost normal, compared to what it had been. All of the hospitals now offered medical care to anyone who needed it, so Ben and Gil closed the clinic. Ben moved to Grammy Nell’s house, and Angelica returned to Alex’s squad, much to everyone’s delight. July in Philly brought high temperatures and humidity and, with no air-conditioning available, complaints about sleepless nights. Caribbean-born Alex and Charleston-raised John thought the rest of them made too much fuss over the hot weather, but Herc found a lawn sprinkler somewhere and set it up in the back yard, and the kids spent hours running under it.

“It’s Katie’s favorite thing,” Peggy said, giving Herc a hug. “If it’s any hotter tomorrow, I’m joining the kids.”

“It’s hot as hell in Philadelphia,” Herc declared. “I didn’t expect it to be that different from New York, but it’s much worse.”

“Maybe we should all play in the sprinkler tomorrow,” Eliza suggested. “It would be fun, and we could use the break.”

“Let’s do it,” Peggy agreed with a grin. “Gil, do you want to?”

Gil looked up from his book and gave her his best smile. “Will you wear a white tee shirt?” he asked. “Maybe with your bikini panties?”

Peggy shrieked “Stop!” and hid her face.

“Behave yourself, Gil,” Angelica said, but she was laughing. “Please remember there will be young children present.”

“Oh, well, then, no, I’m not interested,” Gil shrugged.

“Oh, come on,” Peggy coaxed, her blush subsiding a bit.

“ _Chérie, tu es gentille, mais je ne pourrais pas m’empêcher de faire des fantaisies …_ ”

“Never mind,” Peggy murmured hastily, and blushed again.

“Did he say what I think he just said?” Eliza asked, her eyebrows up.

“Mm,” Peggy said noncommittally.

“My God, Gil, you are incorrigible,” Angelica told him.

“She’s my wife. She is unbelievably gorgeous. I love her,” Gil explained. “Why are you surprised that I would like to see her in a wet tee shirt, or maybe even…”

“Okay, that’s it,” Herc cut him off. “You are so damn – French!”

 _“Bah, oui, ça va sans dire,”_ Gil agreed.

Peggy crossed the room and threw her arms around Gil’s neck, laughing. “I am so glad I married you,” she said.

He pulled her close and kissed her. “ _Alors, si pas demain, une autre fois, chez nous, s’il te plait …”_

_“Je te promets.”_

* * * * *

In the end, Herc was the only one of the guys who joined the kids in their sprinkler games the next day. The Schuyler sisters had as much fun as the children, and the kids thought it was great fun to have their grown-ups playing with them. Burr brought Teddie out to watch, and she flapped her little hands and squealed with excitement as the kids ran back and forth across the yard. Marcy sprinkled a few drops of water on Teddie’s hand and she actually laughed out loud, watching the drops sparkle in the sun.

“Is that the first time she laughed?” Marcy asked Burr.

He nodded, his heart too full to speak.

Marcy gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “We’ll always remember,” she said.

By the end of the day, the back yard was a sea of mud, and all the kids were exhausted. John had made real macaroni and cheese for dinner – there was real cheese in some of the stores now, and the whole day felt like a party. Katie and Polly practically fell asleep in their plates, and Peggy and Eliza barely got the mud washed off them and the others before they were in bed. Herc retired to his basement bunk early, and Burr was reading quietly in his room while Teddie slept. The Schuyler sisters, having showered the mud off themselves, sat in the living room, just enjoying talking with one another.

“Do you and Gil always talk dirty in French?” Angelica asked Peggy inquisitively. “I mean, I know it’s none of my business, but listening to it was kind of, um …”

“Hot?” Eliza suggested.

“Yeah. Oh, look, Peggy’s bright red, what a surprise.”

“Ange, if you think I’m going to tell you anything, think again,” Peggy said, laughing.

Angelica turned to Eliza. “Did you ever think our little sister would be like this?”

“I have to say,” Eliza told her, “that when I thought about our futures at all, discussions on talking dirty in any language were not something I considered.”

“Fair enough,” Angelica said. “So, no dish, Peggy?”

“Nope. I’ll keep my private life with my husband private, thank you very much.”

“Gil’s pretty hot, though,” Angelica pursued.

Peggy just smiled, and Angelica raised her eyebrows inquiringly.

“Oh, Angelica, you have no idea …” Peggy said finally, and then refused to utter another word.

Alex and John, sitting in the kitchen reviewing new information from Headquarters, heard them laughing and looked up.

“It’s good, isn’t it,” Alex said, “for us to all be back together?”

John smiled and nodded. “Like the old days.”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, “only with food and better plumbing.”

“Not much longer now, babe,” John said.

Alex’s eyes were bright. “I know – and then what are we going to do?”

“You’re going to write speeches for the General, and I’m going to be a famous artist.”

“Yeah, that’s the big picture,” Alex reminded him. “What about the day-to-day stuff, like where we’re going to live, and what we’re going to live on?”

“I’ve got money,” John reminded him, “so that’s not a problem. And I assume you’ll have to live in the capital to be near the General, right?”

“I will if he’s running the country, which I sincerely hope is going to be the case.”

“So I’ll live there too. An artist can live anywhere.”

“And the kids?”

“They’ll stay with me till they’re grown. I have to take care of them, and anyway, I love them.”

Alex smiled and reached for John’s hand. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” John responded. He brought Alex’s hand to his mouth and kissed his fingers. “We’re luckier than most.”

Alex looked into John’s beautiful hazel-green eyes and thought of all the times he could have lost him. “How many times were you actually wounded in all this?” he asked.

John stopped to count and then shrugged. “Four? Five? Gil would probably know.”

Alex traced the scar on John’s forehead with his finger, the meteor trail through the constellations of his freckles. “My beautiful boy,” he said, and pulled his chair closer so he could kiss him.

John kept his head on Alex’s shoulder. “So,” he said, “are you going to ask Eliza pretty soon?”

“Yeah,” Alex told him, “as soon as we’re sure it’s over.” There was silence for a minute. “We okay?”

“Fuck, yeah,” John responded, grinning. “I’ve always known.”

Gil was alone in the family room that had been the clinic, reviewing the records and getting the leftover supplies in order. Most of the records had originally been on paper, and he had transferred a lot of them to a tablet that Alex had gotten him. The supplies were in a tall metal cabinet with a glass door that sat next to the desk. He turned in the swivel chair and surveyed the rolls of bandages, suture kits, and instruments. The drawers were full of medications, most of them prescription-only drugs. That would all have to be inventoried, and then – what? Maybe they could donate the meds to a local clinic. He felt a sense of loss, and realized that after nearly two years of practicing medicine without a license, it was going to be very strange to return to medical school. He was going to miss very much the work that he had been doing. As he started to turn his chair back, something caught his eye. The French doors in the family room looked out onto the back yard where the kids had played in the sprinkler all afternoon. Had he just seen starlight or moonlight reflecting off the puddles in the yard? He didn’t think so, but he stayed seated and carelessly picked up a pen, revealing nothing, but every sense alert.

There was a noise by the door, and now he was absolutely sure. He debated with himself about yelling for help, but anybody who wanted to shoot him had already had ample chance to do it. He began writing random words on a list so that whoever was watching would think he was busy with something. Maybe it was someone who needed help and had heard about the clinic. If that was the case, though, surely they would have spoken by now. The door began to slide slowly open, and he finally looked up because it was impossible to pretend he hadn’t heard anything.

Maria Lewis stood there with muddy shoes and tears running down her face.

“Please, can you help me?” she whispered.

“What do you need?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

“I just need enough money to get away.”

 _Jesus,_ he thought, _apparently the word's out that Lafayette has money._ Too bad he had no way to get access to it. He looked at Maria and shook his head, feeling sorry for her.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he stood up. “I have maybe five dollars in cash, and you’re welcome to it, but that’s all.” He reached into his pocket and brought out a handful of crumpled ones that he dropped on the desk.

Her mouth trembled, and the tears came harder. “Please,” she said.

“You don’t understand,” he told her gently. “I really can’t get any more money. Even this is money my friends give me.”

“But you’re rich,” she insisted, still whispering, but her voice taking on an edge.

He sighed. “It doesn’t matter. Any money I have is not in this country. I can’t get to it.”

“What do you want me to do?” she asked

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” he said, genuinely puzzled.

She moved closer and put her hand on his arm. “I’ll do whatever you want,” she murmured, looking up at him from under her tear-wet lashes.

He stepped back, pulling his arm away. “Please don’t do that,” he told her.

She ignored him, backing him up against the desk. _This is ridiculous,_ he thought, and then her hands locked behind his head and she pulled him toward her.

Gil grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard. “Stop,” he said, no longer whispering. He was not inclined to yell for Alex to come rescue him from this girl, but he had no more patience with her. “I can’t help you. I have no money to give you, and I don’t want anything from you. Please go.”

“You don’t understand. It’s not my fault. Everything was Jay’s idea. He made me do things. He hit me.” She pushed up her sleeve and showed him old bruises, fading green and yellow, along her arm. “He cut me with a knife once.” She lifted the hem of her shirt, and there was in fact a long, thin white scar across her rib cage. She raised the shirt higher than she needed to, revealing the full swell of her breasts and watching his face to gauge his reaction. He gave her none, and she licked her lips, then readjusted her shirt.

“You need to go,” he said, nothing in his voice but ice.

Her face could have been pretty but it was too eager, too greedy to be anything but repulsive to him. She narrowed her eyes. The tears had stopped as if she had switched them off, which he suspected she had. After a pause, she smiled.

“I saw them playing outside today,” she said. “I watched them through a crack in the fence. I know which one is yours. The little one, the one with curls like yours. I’ve seen her now. I know what she looks like. I’ll always know which one she is.” She leaned forward and he could smell her perfume, overlaid with sweat. “I would find her. Unless …” she shrugged.

He was a head taller than she was, bigger, stronger. What did she think?

“Unless?” he asked, his face unreadable.

The smile left her face. “My life has been hard. I didn’t inherit a fortune like you. I don’t come from a rich family like the Schuylers. I’m not asking for much,” she coaxed. “I just need enough to get away somewhere. They’ll be looking for me now. I just want a fresh start.” She was making her voice sound scared. _She's good at this,_ he thought. _She should have gone on the stage._

She brought the tears back to her eyes, and he had had enough. He backhanded her across the face as hard as he could, so that she fell into the storage cabinet, breaking the glass in the door and hitting her head on the frame. She crashed to the floor, bleeding, and lay still.

He prodded her with his toe, and she let out a whimper. He put his foot on her neck, to hold her down, maybe.

The noise brought John and Alex running. “What the _hell?_ ” John asked, and they both stopped, seeing him. His face was pale, but still blank, and he was staring down, knowing full well how much pressure it would take on her neck to kill her, knowing how easy it would be.

Alex understood instantly. “Gil, you can’t …” he started.

 _“Tu as tort, mon frère,”_ Gil responded, his voice as expressionless as his face. “I could.”

Alex stepped forward and put his hand on Gil‘s arm. “Gil,” he said softly, urgently.

Gil jerked his arm away, but didn’t otherwise move. He stared at Maria, lying face down in a slowly growing puddle of blood, making pathetic frightened noises. He pressed his foot down just a little, and she screamed. He pulled back as Alex grabbed him from one side and John from the other, both of them yelling. He took an unhurried step away and shook them off, still staring at the girl whimpering and bleeding on the floor. He spat on her, then turned to face his two best friends. “She threatened my family,” he said, and walked out of the room.

It was the last night of the Second Insurrection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haven't we always known that Gil was capable of this? He will do whatever it takes, quite literally, to protect the ones he loves.  
> It's the end of the insurrection. As Alex asks, what are we going to do?  
> On another topic, mad applause to the first person who gets the 1776 (the Broadway show, not the year) reference in this chapter. Have to keep you guys on your toes.  
> I'm sure you all join in my disappointment at Lin's NOT getting his PEGOT, but we love him anyway. There's always next year.  
> Thank you all a fafillion gazillion times for the kudos and comments and for liking this story I'm telling. Love to all.


	55. Just Like That, It's Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loose ends get tied up as the Second Insurrection comes to a close.

While General Akhdir and his senior staff were advancing on the capital in a closely-guarded secret maneuver, Alex had his hands full. He had followed Gil out of the family room, yelling at John over his shoulder to get help. Gil walked into the kitchen, where he silently filled the kettle with water and put it on the stove. Alex stood two feet away from him, breathing hard, his face flushed, barely able to control his voice.

“Are you fucking seriously making tea? Now?”

“Yes,” Gil responded, his face still impassive. “Do you want some?”

“Jesus!” Alex yelled, slamming his fist against the counter. “Have you lost your fucking mind? What the fuck did you think you were doing in there?”

Gil considered for a minute, then said coolly, “I was thinking about killing her.”

Alex ran his hand through his hair and grabbed Gil’s arm. “Gil, listen to me. You can’t – Jesus Christ, Gil, I’m supposed to fucking court martial you for this – what were you – ah, fuck, Gil, you –”

“You should let go of me, _mon frère,_ because you really don’t want me to hit you.” Gil didn’t sound angry, just tired.

“Are you fucking _threatening_ me?” Alex asked, glaring up at Gil, who was at least six inches taller. They locked eyes for about ten seconds, then Alex released his grip on Gil’s arm.

Gil shook his head and turned away, carefully putting teabags in two cups on the counter. When the kettle whistled, he poured the boiling water and carried the cups to the table. He took a seat and motioned Alex to another chair.

“I didn’t do it,” he said. “I thought about it, and I could have, but I decided not to.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, just like that? You thought about killing her, and then decided not to?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck, Gil, are you made of ice?”

Gil almost smiled at that. He sipped some tea and leaned forward. “Alex,” he said, “she threatened Katie. She knew which child was mine, and she said she would find her.”

“Yeah, I get that …” Alex began.

“No,” Gil told him, “you can’t possibly get that, because if you did, you would have no questions for me.”

Alex rubbed his forehead as if his head hurt. There was quite a lot of noise coming from the family room. He looked over his shoulder, then back at Gil. “I should …”

“By all means, go,” Gil told him. “I’ll be right here.”

* * * * *

Maria Lewis was sitting down, handcuffed, and Ben was efficiently stitching an ugly laceration on her scalp. The supply cabinet, its glass front shattered, had been moved to a corner of the room, and someone had already swept up the broken glass. Herc was washing blood off the tile floor. John was sitting in the swivel chair facing Maria and trying to get her to talk to him. Angelica was standing behind him, her gun in her hands. On the other side of the room, Eliza was sitting with Peggy on one of the beds, doing her best to divert her attention. As soon as Alex walked in, Peggy jumped up.

“Where’s Gil?” she asked.

“He’s okay,” Alex told her shortly.

“No, where is he?”

Alex was going to have to deal with her first. “He’s in the kitchen,” he said, “but please don’t go talk to him now. He’s all right, no injury. I just need to get his statement.”

Peggy’s face was uneasy, but she sat back down and leaned on Eliza.

Alex turned to John. “What have you found out?”

“Not much,” John admitted. “All she says is that Gil hit her.”

“Gil wouldn’t …” Peggy started, but Eliza shushed her.

Alex rolled his eyes and jerked his head at John, who got out of the way. Alex sat down in front of Maria while Ben tied off the last couple of stitches.

“Hey, Maria,” Alex said, “it’s been a while.”

John barely managed to choke off a laugh at that, but Maria looked up at Alex, her eyes smoldering. “Fuck you,” she snapped.

“Um, excuse me,” Ben interrupted. “I’m done here. Okay if I go?”

“Anything she needs to know?” Alex asked.

“Don’t get the stitches wet for the first couple of days, take the antibiotic, that’s about it.” He pointed to the vial of pills on the desk.

“Okay, then,” Alex told him. “Tell Tony I’ll catch him up tomorrow.”

Ben surveyed the room and gave Alex a sympathetic look. “Better you than me,” he commented and went out the door.

Alex turned back to Maria. “Look, we’ve got you handcuffed. You’re probably thirsty and you probably need to use a bathroom. Things will go better if you answer questions.”

She glared at him for a minute, trying to find an angle. She was regretting that video stunt from six years ago. Otherwise, she might have been able to do something with Alex Hamilton. He was pretty hot. She looked around at the others. John Laurens was gay, so he was useless, and the other guy who had cleaned up the floor didn’t seem to be interested in her. Lafayette was really hot though. Hotter even than Alex Hamilton, and Alex had known how to show a girl a good time. Lafayette wasn't gay because he had a kid and the girl over in the corner seemed to be his girlfriend or something. She wondered why she hadn’t been able to get him to respond. Maybe she'd moved a little too fast. Maybe she could work things so she’d have another chance with him. She shrugged.

“What questions?” she asked.

“The main one is what are you doing here?”

“I was just trying to get some help,” Maria responded, looking down.

“Why here?” Alex asked.

“I don’t know,” Maria said, shifting in her seat.

“Don’t be stupid,” Alex told her. “First, I don’t have time to play games, and second, there is no fucking reason why I should cut you a break. Why did you come here?”

“I thought your people would help me, okay?”

“Why?”

“Because I sure wasn’t getting any help from the fucking Shippen family.”

The mention of the Shippens surprised Alex. “Why would you expect the Shippen family to help you?”

Maria rolled her eyes. “Because Sadie was my friend. Because Jay was working for Judge Shippen. It’s not like I didn’t know them.”

“So you already asked them for help?”

“What if I did?”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Maria, just tell me without all the drama, okay?”

“Fine.” She flounced a little in the chair, as much as she could flounce with her hands cuffed behind her. “I went to Sadie’s sister Meg after Jay got killed, and I asked her to help me for Sadie’s sake, because if Sadie had still been alive, she would have helped me.”

“And what did Meg say?”

“Meg’s a bitch.”

Alex pushed his hair back impatiently. “Look, Maria, you give me some useful information, maybe you get to go home tonight. You keep wasting my time, you end up cuffed to a door for the next twelve hours or so while we decide what to do with you. I’m tired and I have a lot of work to do before morning, so how about you keep your opinions to yourself and just answer the questions I ask you. Now, what did Meg say?”

“She wouldn’t talk to me,” Maria said. “I just stood there at the door, and she sent her husband out.”

“Ben Arnold?”

“Duh, yeah.”

“Maria …”

“Okay, sorry. Yeah, it was Ben Arnold.”

“And what did he tell you?”

“He said they weren’t going to give me anything just because I said I was Sadie’s friend. He said anybody could come there and say that, treated me as if I was lying. Made me sick.”

“So the Shippens just turned you away?”

“Pretty much.”

“And then where did you go?”

Maria’s pink tongue darted out, licking her lips a little. She saw Alex watching and gave him a tiny sidelong smile. The video was a long time ago, after all; maybe it didn’t matter anymore.

Alex flushed, and her smile got a little bigger.

John, who had been watching the whole time, stepped forward and put his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Take a break,” he said softly.

“What?”

“Just take a break. I’ll do the questions.”

Alex looked up into John’s eyes and saw both the understanding and the exasperation there. John smiled at him. “Some of us are immune to her shit, you know.”

Alex put one hand up to shield his face and gripped John’s hand with the other. “Yeah,” he said. He stood up and leaned in close to John. “Nobody knows me like you do,” he whispered in John’s ear.

“Right,” John said so that everybody could hear him. “You should go make some tea or something.”

Alex left, and John faced Maria. “Where did you go after the Shippens sent you packing?” he asked.

“I had this necklace,” she told him. “I was pretty sure it was diamonds, so I took it to a jewelry store to sell.”

“And was it diamonds?”

“Yeah, but the guy said they weren’t very good diamonds, like they weren’t as sparkly as they should be, you know?”

“So did he buy the necklace or not?”

“Yeah, he did, but he only gave me three thousand dollars. I mean, it seemed like a lot of money, but then I had to buy some things, and I realized it wasn’t going to last very long.”

Three thousand dollars. John’s mother might have spent that on a nice pair of shoes. He shook his head. “And then it occurred to you to come here?”

Maria nodded.

“Were you looking for Alex?” John asked.

“Not really. I mean, I didn’t know he was here. I just knew some of the Movement people were.”

“How did you know that?”

“Because one time I was in this neighborhood with Jay, and we saw Aaron Burr here.”

There was an intake of breath around the room. Angelica moved first, grabbing Maria by the front of her shirt and screaming, “You? You told Sadie Shippen where Burr and Desi were?”

“No!” Maria wailed, bursting into tears. “It wasn’t me, it was Jay. Jimmy gave him money.”

John stood up and threw his chair across the room, where it crashed into the already broken supply cabinet. Angelica forced herself to put down her gun, because, God help her, she wanted to shoot this girl. Herc grabbed John, and Alex came running back into the room.

“Eliza!” Herc yelled. “Get Alex out of here and talk to him. Don’t let him come back.”

As Eliza went to Alex, Peggy ran past them into the kitchen.

“What the fuck …” Alex had time to say, before Eliza pulled him away.

Aaron Burr, Teddie in his arms, was at the foot of the stairs as Eliza dragged Alex into the living room.

“What the hell is going on?” Burr asked.

Eliza looked from him to Alex and back again. She was going to have to tell them both.

Gil met Peggy in the hall, where she threw herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. He had just finished telling Alex everything that had happened with Maria when the crashing and screaming started. All he wanted now was Peggy, and here she was, clinging to him and crying, but here, and everything else was secondary to that. He picked her up and carried her back into the kitchen, his face pressed against her hair. He’d had a hard hour with Alex, and he’d gotten through it, but now he was exhausted, and he needed his wife like he needed oxygen. He sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, keeping both his arms around her, holding her against him. He felt the tightness that had been in his chest since he first saw Maria Lewis begin to ease, felt his breathing and heart rate return to normal. He rubbed his cheek against Peggy’s curls, and he realized there were tears in his eyes.

_“Sh, sh, petit mouton,”_ he whispered. _“Je suis là, et je t’aime, ma chérie, mon coeur.”_

“Oh, Gil,” she sobbed, “they knew Burr was here, and they told Jimmy Prevost. That’s how he found Desi.”

_“Ah, putain!”_ he swore. _“Putain de merde!”_

He was angry, but beyond that, his heart ached for Desi and Burr, for Teddie, for all the stupid acts of violence and impulsive decisions and tragic accidents that made up a war and killed the innocent. Collateral damage, they called it. Nothing they could do could change any of it now. Desi was gone, and so was her killer. They could take their revenge on Maria Lewis, but even that wouldn’t help anyone.

He rocked Peggy back and forth as he would have done Katie. Without her – without them – he couldn’t be whole. Tonight he had nearly killed a woman because of that, but he had made his decision – a conscious decision – not to. He knew himself well enough not to claim that it was morality that drove him. It was what Alex referred to as his “goddam French pragmatism.” It would be enough to frighten Maria so badly that she would never come near Katie or any of them again. That moment when she felt the pressure of his booted foot on her neck, when she knew that he could snap it like a twig if he wanted to, that had told her what he wanted her to know. Touch me or mine, and you will die. She understood that now, and so did Alex, even if he didn’t like it.

He lifted Peggy’s hair and kissed her neck, and he felt her sigh. They were so much alike. They drew strength and comfort from each other. That’s how they’d gotten this far. He ran his thumb gently over her cheekbones, wiping away the tears.

“It’s been a terrible war,” he said. “So many have suffered. We’re luckier than most.”

“I know.”

“Not much longer.”

She nodded, and he pulled her to him as tightly as he could.

Herc found them like that, still in the uncomfortable wooden kitchen chair, both of them somehow half asleep. Gil looked up and blinked at him.

“Now what?” he asked with a faint smile.

“It’s over,” Herc said.

* * * * *

In the end, John had just sent Maria away. They’d all heard enough of her whining excuses and her greed. They had no evidence of a crime she could be charged with, and all her accomplices were dead.

Angelica and Herc had kept John off of her until he had a chance to think, and he had come to the realization that they couldn’t legally hold her, and that he had no desire to help her.

“Go,” he had said, unlocking the handcuffs. He handed her the vial of pills. “Take your antibiotics as ordered.”

She had stood there staring at him.

“Go where?” she had asked.

“I don’t fucking care,” John had said wearily. “Just get out.”

“But I don’t have any money.”

“Too fucking bad.”

“But I …”

John gripped the corner of the desk to keep himself grounded. “I don’t care,” he repeated distinctly. “I don’t care where you go. I don’t care that you don’t have any money. I don’t care if you fucking die. Just get out of this house.”

She had begun to cry, really cry this time, not the fake cry that had been so useful to her so many times. She ugly-cried until her eyes were red, and she wiped her nose on her shirt.

Herc opened the sliding door and said, “Out.”

“But…” she sobbed.

John took a step closer to her and leaned in. “I swear to God and on my mother’s grave that if you are not out of this house in thirty seconds that I will go get Lafayette and tell him you said you would kill his daughter.”

“I’ll back him up on that,” Herc said.

“Me, too,” Angelica added. “I heard you say it.”

Maria’s eyes grew wide and her face turned white under the blotchiness from the crying. “You – you wouldn’t …”

“Twenty seconds,” John said, and she was out the door. They heard the gate open and then slam behind her.

John looked around for the desk chair and realized he had thrown it and broken two of its legs. He leaned on the desk with both hands and took a breath. Herc made sure the sliding door was locked, and Angelica secured her gun. As John turned around to go talk to Alex, they heard the chiming of multiple phones. John pulled his out of his pocket, while Alex’s danced across the desk. Angelica stared at hers in astonishment.

* * * * *

It was three o’clock in the morning. They had all listened to General Akhdir’s midnight announcement from the capital that had been made on both internet and broadcast channels.

_“Former President King has resigned, along with the Vice-President and the cabinet. As the previous Vice-President under President Washington, I have taken charge of the government and have declared temporary martial law. All members of the security force known as the Greaters are immediately relieved of duty. Security will be maintained by the military organization known as the Movement._

_As of now, the designations of Have, Hope, and Deplo are no longer in effect. All citizens, whether native born or naturalized, have equal rights. The Constitution as it was at the close of President Washington’s administration has been reinstated._

_Free elections will be held on the first Tuesday in November. To that end, I urge every citizen to register to vote. The municipal government of every town or city is empowered to register voters. There will be no – I repeat NO – restrictions on voting for any citizen over the age of eighteen. Voter registration of all citizens is the priority of this government._

_I also urge all citizens to consider public service at this time. We will have many offices to fill, and we will need patriots willing to serve their country. Local governments will accept petitions and applications for candidates._

_We must all work together to repair the damage done by an illegal and unjust government. Once free elections have been held, the order for emergency martial law will be lifted, and our country will once again be governed by those elected by all citizens._

_Finally, I announce at this time that I will be a candidate for President in those free elections. I will do my utmost to serve the country I love._

_May the dawn that we see when the sun rises today be the resurgence of liberty. Thank you and God bless you.”_

They were in the small living room, crowded as always, but so exhausted that it seemed like too much work to get up and go to bed. Everybody had cried, first from joy, and then from relief. It was over. The Second Insurrection had been a success. Five years of resistance had brought them back to free elections only a few months away.

Peggy looked around the room at the beloved faces. Alex, his eyes deeply shadowed, had carried so much responsibility on his shoulders. It was Alex who had led them, motivated them, kept them going even when it seemed impossible. She was so grateful for him.

John, as usual, was sitting on the floor, and she reached down to stroke his curls. John, her accidental brother, whom she might never even have known if not for the Movement, and whom she loved beyond measure. Herc, who never, ever gave up, never let anything discourage him, who faced whatever had to be faced with determination and the occasional wisecrack. Her eyes moved on to Burr, who had suffered so much more than any of them. He sat at the end of the couch, Teddie sound asleep against his shoulder, tears running down his face. Her heart ached for him, but she knew that no matter what the future held, Burr and Teddie would always be a part of this unconventional family that had been stitched together out of torn pieces like one of Herc’s patchworks.

Eliza was next to Burr and Angelica was on the floor with John. After everything, she still had her sisters. All of the Schuyler sisters had survived the war and were still together, three of them in this room, and Katie safely asleep upstairs. Her own involvement in this had begun the night she had grabbed Katie and run out of the house, becoming an unintended outlaw. And yet without all that, without the pain, the loss of her home and her parents, she wouldn’t be in this room, leaning against her husband’s shoulder, her right hand resting lightly on her belly, cradling the child inside. What was it Angelica had said the other day? _Life never goes the way you think it’s going to._

She reached up for Gil and pulled his face toward hers for a kiss. Through everything, Gil had said over and over that he was fighting so that they could have a life for themselves and their children. He smiled at her now as she laid her hand against his cheek. _Our life,_ she thought. _The future will be our life._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know that John never calls Gil Lafayette and that he knows Katie isn't Gil's daughter. He was just trying to scare the crap out of Maria Lewis in language she would understand. Hope it worked.  
> The Second Insurrection may be over, but there is still work to be done to ensure free elections and provide for a free government. Our squad will have to find places for themselves in a totally different world. And doesn't Alex have something he wants to talk to Eliza about?  
> We're not done yet.  
> Thanks to all you wonderful readers for the kudos and comments that keep me going. You guys really are the best!


	56. What Comes Next

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A decision is made about Molly. John, Gil, and Peggy meet with an attorney. Tony has a big announcement. The squad gets to be in a parade. Alex makes a couple of speeches, one much better than the other.

The General sent out bulletins almost every hour for the first few days. Tony was put in charge of the local government in Philadelphia, which meant he had to set up whatever departments were needed to run the city. Basic city services like water and electricity had continued to run fairly normally through the insurrection, so he left those alone. They had already re-opened the licensing bureau. The two biggest tasks ahead of him were overseeing the massive task of voter registration and sorting out the city finances, but before he started working on those, he had to talk to Molly. Not a word other than official business had passed between them since the night Roger had walked her back to the house. Things hadn’t been going particularly well between her and Jack even before the big blow-up over Judge Shippen, so Molly wasn’t too surprised that Jack had stayed away from her, sleeping first at Andy’s house, then opting for the floor in the bunk room. She kept to her room as ordered, doing whatever clerical work Tony assigned to her.

When Tony knocked at her door, she thought it might be Angelica, who had gotten permission to visit her a few times. When she saw Tony, she took a step back to let him in, but didn’t say anything.

“The General has put me in charge of the local government,” Tony said.

“Congratulations.” Molly didn’t really mean it to sound sarcastic. Tony would be a good administrator.

Tony grimaced. “We’ll see how it goes. Anyway, since I was talking to the General, I asked him how much leeway he’d give me on deciding your case.”

“Okay.” There wasn’t much point in asking questions. Tony was going to tell her.

“He asked me if you’d consider re-registering as a conscientious objector. I told him you’d probably be willing to do that.”

“But I was out fighting with everybody else. It’s pretty obvious that I don’t object to carrying arms.”

“For God’s sake, Molly, he’s giving you an out. The war’s over. You don’t have to fire a gun again,” Tony didn’t have much patience.

“It wouldn’t exactly be true, though,” Molly responded.

“How ‘exactly true’ does it have to be for you? You re-register as a conshie, you do desk work or whatever for an army that isn’t engaged in combat. There is no decision about shooting anybody when there’s no shooting going on.”

“And if I don’t?”

Tony threw up his hands. “Then you’re done. You’re out. You pack your bags and go.”

“Dismissal.”

“Yeah, but luckily, no more Greaters to pick you up when you’ve been dismissed.”

“But if I re-register as a conshie, I stay with the Movement?”

“Yeah, and we forget about everything.” Tony’s face softened a little. “Come on, Molly. You’ve been with the Movement a long time. Will died for it in the First Insurrection. And we could use your help. There’s a shitload of stuff to do.”

She nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She smiled a little. “Can I come out of my room now?”

* * * * *

Alex was handling security. Fortunately, they had had enough foresight to set up a loosely structured unofficial police force during the insurrection, and Alex now named Roger Stayner to head that. Roger had proved to be a level-headed, reliable officer who quickly moved to take the force from “loosely structured” to “well organized.” Alex thought he had a bright future.

With Roger running the police force, Alex had time to help Tony deal with the finances. The records were in a complete shambles, and the tax system under King had been skewed in favor of the Haves. Alex found that Burr knew more about the government financial dealings than anybody else, and the two of them sat for hours working on clarifying and simplifying regulations. It was the best thing that could have happened for Burr, as it gave him a job to focus on. The house was full of willing baby sitters for Teddie, and Burr began to engage in conversation and even smile occasionally.

The General had abolished the regulations that required phone licenses and media licenses, and there were lines around the block at every electronics store. John came home with a TV that he set up in the family room. The Laurens kids had watched TV before, since Henry Laurens had any kind of license he wanted, but Katie had never seen one, and when the pictures started moving, she let out a shriek and ran to get Peggy.

“Tatie!” she yelled. “There’s people in it!”

For the next few days, she dragged everyone in to look at the people or the puppets or whatever was on the screen as she asked a million questions. After the novelty wore off, though, she began to lose interest and went back to spending most of her time playing with Polly.

Everybody got to have phones again, and for a while, Peggy wasn’t quite sure what to do with hers. As a high school student, she’d been totally dependent on her phone, but now she hardly used it.

“Maybe it’s because you’re not a teenager anymore,” Eliza suggested.

“Actually …” Peggy began.

“Oh, that’s right,” Eliza corrected herself. “You won’t be twenty until September.”

Gil looked up and smiled. “What was that thing Alex said to me once about stealing a baby out of a cradle or something?”

“Robbing the cradle?” Peggy giggled.

“Yes, that’s what I have done.”

“You look pretty proud of yourself,” Eliza told him, her eyebrow up.

“Oh, I am.”

“And you’ll be twenty-five before I’m twenty, so you’re really getting old,” Peggy told him. “A quarter century is a long time.”

He didn’t say a word, but just smiled at her until she began to blush, and then he grabbed her hand and pulled her in close and whispered so that only she could hear it, “I will show you later all that I have learned in my quarter century.”

Peggy collapsed in giggles and Eliza left the room.

John came in one day and announced that law offices were beginning to open up in the city. “It’s a good thing,” he said, “since I’ve got to get the kids' trust funds sorted out.” He made an appointment with Tom McKean, who had been one of the most respected attorneys in Philadelphia until his license to practice law had been revoked by King’s government because he was a naturalized citizen born in Scotland. He was delighted to get back to work and was soon able to contact Ed Rutledge, the attorney in Charleston who had drawn up Henry Laurens’s will and the children’s trusts.

“It’s all quite straightforward,” he told John. “The money is split four ways, and the trusts provide for allowances for the support of the children and eventually their education. They get full access to their money when they turn twenty-one. Right now, there’s just under seven million dollars total in those four trusts, and since relatively little will be withdrawn over the next few years, that will continue to grow. With proper management, which we can talk about later, there should be enough money for them to live comfortably throughout their lives. There’s only one problem.”

“What’s that?” John asked.

“Ed Rutledge says that he advised your father to take certain actions, but that he refused.”

“Why am I not surprised?” John asked rhetorically, shaking his head.

“It’s customary when naming a guardian or a trustee to name a back-up in case for some reason the first person named can’t serve.”

“Okay, that makes sense.”

“In fact, it’s more than customary. Not doing so would indicate bad practice on the part of the attorney, so Rutledge had to insert a clause indicating that he did his best to get your dad to follow his advice.” McKean gave John an appraising look, as if trying to decide how he would react.

“Look,” John told him, “don’t worry about offending or upsetting me. My father and I had been estranged for years before he died, with good reason. I just want to be sure everything is okay for the kids.”

McKean nodded. Ed Rutledge had described Henry Laurens to him as the “meanest son of a bitch I’ve ever had the misfortune to deal with.” Knowing that John wasn’t going to get defensive made things easier.

“Well, then,” he said to John, “your father named his sister Lydia as both guardian and trustee. He refused to name a back-up because he said he didn’t trust anyone else. Your aunt passed away a few years ago, and your father never updated his will. That means the court will have to name a guardian for the kids and a trustee for their assets.”

“Shit,” John said. “It’s not enough my father fucked up the first sixteen years of my life and terrified the little kids. He’s going to keep doing it even after he’s dead.”

“Hang on,” McKean told him, “it may not be that bad. How old are you?”

“Twenty-three,” John responded, looking at the attorney uneasily.

McKean shrugged. “You’re a little young, but based on what I’ve heard about you, there’s nobody who would be a better guardian for your siblings. Hell, half of Philadelphia thinks you’re some kind of saint. You didn’t know?”

John flushed and put his hand over his face. “It’s embarrassing,” he mumbled.

“What is it they keep saying? ‘Hamilton is inspiring, but Laurens is the one who gets things done.’ You’ve heard that, right?”

“Yeah,” John said, acutely uncomfortable.

“John, it’s okay,” McKean told him. “All I’m saying is that on any given day, I can pull in a thousand character witnesses on your behalf. I’m pretty sure that both Alex Hamilton and General Akhdir would testify that you’re trustworthy and that you love your brothers and sisters.”

John thought of the special arrangements that the General had made so that he could get the kids before the insurrection started. He nodded, then added with a grin, “Don’t forget the Schuyler sisters!”

McKean grinned back at him. “I think you’ll be fine. I’m assuming, of course, that you want to be the guardian of your siblings.”

“More than anything,” John said fervently.

“Okay, I’ll get busy on that. The next thing is your own trust fund from your grandfather. Since nothing has been withdrawn for a few years, the money has grown quite a lot. Now that you’re over twenty-one, you have full access.”

“No kidding? That will make things easier. How much is there?”

McKean laughed. “A little over four million.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No,” McKean smiled, “and you can withdraw whatever you need, although I’d caution you to get a financial manager as soon as possible.”

John was momentarily speechless, then he said, “I guess I can get some new shoes.”

* * * * *

A few days after General Akhdir established martial law, he declared that Monday, July twenty-ninth, would be set aside for a day of celebration. Quoting the long-ago second President, he said that this day “ought to be celebrated by pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations from one end of this continent to the other..." All government offices were to be closed and citizens were encouraged to hold whatever kinds of festivities they thought fitting.

“We’re having a parade,” Tony said, “and by ‘we’ I mean every single one of us. Alex is Grand Marshall or Grand Poobah or whatever the hell he wants to call it, and he will be riding on a highly decorated float. John and all of the Schuyler sisters need to be on the same float.”

He got a lot of argument, so he made it an official order, and that afternoon, Dave Coleman drove a flatbed over and parked it in front of the house. “I’m going to be driving you guys in the parade,” he said. “Cool, huh?”

Alex agreed numbly and stared at the flatbed. Then he yelled for Herc.

“Green for the insurrection,” Herc decided after assessing the situation. “We need green everything. Let’s put the word out.”

By the next evening, there were piles of leafy branches, rolls of green ribbon, and even a bolt of green satin that somebody had donated. Herc got everybody busy stapling and nailing, and showed Marcy and Becky how to make ribbon banners. They tied hundreds of pieces of ribbon to sticks and let Katie and Polly run around waving them.

Herc arranged a few seats on the float, but, he said, “You’ll want to be standing up waving the banners so people can see you.”

“Do we really have to do this?” Alex asked at dinner. “I have work to do.”

“The General thinks it’s a good idea,” Angelica told him. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Alex huffed and went to pour himself more coffee. Coffee and sugar were becoming easily available, and Eliza watched a little uneasily as Alex poured himself a cup and added spoonful after spoonful of sugar.

“Are we going to do anything except stand and wave?” she asked.

“Isn’t that enough?” Alex asked. “You think we should sing or something?”

John immediately struck a pose and began to do his version of what he thought opera sounded like. The kids thought he was hilarious, but Gil begged him to stop.

“Okay, no singing,” Eliza announced, crossing it off an imaginary list.

“You know, seriously,” Burr said, and they all stopped to listen, because he so seldom expressed his opinion. “People are grateful. Let them enjoy this. Let them appreciate you.”

Peggy gave him a hug, and Alex grabbed his shoulder.

“You make me ashamed of myself,” he admitted.

The parade was to be in the morning and finish up around noon before it got too hot. Then there would be cookouts and picnics in just about every neighborhood park in the city. Tony, Alex, John, and Angelica would be going to visit parks to greet as many citizens as possible. In the evening, there would be fireworks by the river.

In the meantime, on breaks from float decorating, there were other things to be decided. John pulled his siblings away from ribbon-tying, and sat them all down in the boys’ room. “I want to talk to you about something,” he said, and then, as soon as he saw their faces change, added hastily, “Don’t worry, everything’s fine! I just need to ask you about something.”

Another reason to hate his father, that just saying he wanted to talk to the kids would scare them like that. He cursed Henry Laurens silently for the thousandth time.

“You all know the story about how when I was hurt really badly, and Peggy gave me blood, right?”

They all nodded solemnly.

“Gil says you would have died if she didn’t,” James said.

“Yeah, that’s right. So when that happened, Peggy told me I would be her brother because after that I had Schuyler blood. That really made me happy, and now I always call Peggy my sister.”

More nods, but then Marcy clarified in a grown-up tone, “But it’s not exactly the same as being a born sister.”

“Not exactly,” John agreed with a smile. “But families are made all different ways, and Peggy and I love each other just like you and I do.”

Marcy smiled back at him. “I asked Peggy once if she would be my sister too and she said she would.”

“Really?” John asked, delighted. “I didn’t know that. But that’s kind of what I wanted to ask you guys about. Back when that happened, I changed my name to John Laurens-Schuyler. I’ve been using that name since then, but it wasn’t actually my legal name. Now that I can talk to a lawyer, I’d like to do whatever I need to do to make it my legal name. I want to know first, is that okay with all of you, and second, do any of you want to change your names now for any reason?”

It was an unexpected question for kids who had never been encouraged to make decisions, and they had to think about it.

“I’d like to be Martha Laurens-Schuyler instead of just Martha Laurens,” Marcy said. “I love Peggy and Eliza and Angelica so much.”

“Can I still be James?” James asked, a little confused.

“Of course,” John told him. “You can be whoever you want.”

“I can’t be Batman!” James said, and then fell over laughing at his own joke.

In the end, after a lot of discussion, both serious and silly, all four of the kids decided that they wanted to have the same name as their oldest brother. John tried to grab them for a hug, but they jumped on top of him instead and they all tickled each other, laughing hysterically.

* * * * *

Gil took John’s advice and went to see Tom McKean himself. After a brief conversation, McKean said he needed a day or two to get in touch with Gil’s financial contacts in France, and that, since Gil was married, his wife should be included in the next appointment. Accordingly, the two of them showed up as scheduled and sat down to figure out where they stood legally and financially.

“When I met with Gil the other day,” McKean said to Peggy, “he explained to me that the two of you have been raising your little sister, and that you are really acting as her parents. Let me say first that you have my deepest sympathy on the loss of your parents, and that I commend you for taking care of your sister.”

Peggy smiled a little sadly. “Thank you. We love Katie very much, and we’ll always take care of her.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” McKean continued, “but from a legal standpoint, your position is ambiguous. You are certainly Katie’s guardians, but there could be difficulty in the future since that guardianship was never made legal. Are there other relatives on the Schuyler side?”

“Just my older sisters, Angelica and Eliza. Elizabeth, I mean.”

“Well, then, provided that your sisters have no objection, I think it would be wise for the two of you to adopt Katie legally. That way, there would be no question in the future as to who has the right to make parental decisions for her.”

Gil looked at Peggy and then nodded slowly. “In a medical situation, for example?”

“Exactly,” the attorney said. “If Katie ever needs an emergency appendectomy, that would be a terrible time to have to get a court order for guardianship.”

“I never even thought of that,” Peggy admitted, “but it makes sense. And of course Angelica and Eliza will be fine with it.”

“Shall I get started on the paperwork for that then?” McKean asked, and they both agreed.

“Now we also need to know how difficult it’s going to be to get access to my trust fund,” Gil said. “In addition to Katie, we are expecting a baby in January, and I want to have some idea of what our family’s finances will be.”

“Well, first, congratulations, and second, it’s not going to be difficult at all,” the attorney said. “General Akhdir has opened up international banking channels, and you can withdraw money as soon as I finish about half an hour’s worth of paperwork, so how about today?”

“Really?” Gil asked, his face lighting up. He turned to Peggy. “We can go to the jeweler this afternoon!”

Peggy had known that was coming, so she just smiled and agreed.

“Now about the way your trust fund is set up,” McKean went on. “Are you aware that your being married makes a difference?”

Gil frowned. “I think I remember my uncle saying something about there would be changes when I got married, but I was about sixteen at the time, and I didn’t pay any attention. What kind of changes?”

“The terms of the trust require that when you marry, your wife is to receive an independent allowance. That means a certain amount per month must be paid into a separate account in her name alone. That’s her money, not yours.”

“Wait,” Peggy said, “are you saying that I just get this money for no reason other than being married to Gil?”

“That’s what the trust says.”

Peggy frowned. “That’s kind of … um, weird.”

“It’s not unusual with large estates,” McKean told her. “More common in Europe, perhaps, than here, but it guarantees a married woman economic autonomy.”

“So I can just spend all that money on myself?” Peggy asked, with a sidelong smile at Gil.

“That’s the idea. Apparently, a century or so ago, there was a Marquis who didn’t provide adequately for his wife, and the trust was rewritten to be sure that the Marquise, whoever she might be, would always have enough to live on without having to ask her husband for money.”

“Obviously, that’s fine with me,” Gil said. “How does it work?”

“According to the terms, Peggy’s disbursement per month will be five percent of yours. Your disbursement is tied to some extent to things like inflation and recession, but believe me, it will be adequate for your needs.”

They waited for a minute, and then Gil said, “All right. Could you give us the actual numbers, because with the new baby coming, we are thinking about buying a house.”

A slow grin spread over McKean’s face. “Peggy, you’ll receive five thousand dollars a month, and Gil, you’ll be getting a hundred thousand.”

“Per year?” Gil asked.

“Per month,” McKean told him.

There was a stunned silence while they both did the math in their heads.

“But that’s …” Peggy started.

McKean nodded. “Well over a million dollars a year.”

Gil couldn’t help himself. He jumped up, grabbed Peggy, and spun her around the office, both of them laughing like crazy. McKean sat back in his chair and enjoyed it. When they finally stopped, he said, “There’s more.”

They took their seats a little breathlessly and waited.

“Gil, up until you turned twenty-one, your disbursement was controlled by your trustees according to your needs. Your college and living expenses were paid, with a generous allowance, but nothing like the full amount was ever spent. In addition, for nearly three years, nothing has been disbursed, since you couldn’t access the money under the King government’s laws. That means you have a sort of backlog of cash available now in addition to your regular disbursements, which I’m going to schedule to start on August first. That backlog is what I was referring to when I said you could get some money this afternoon.”

Gil looked at Peggy and then back at McKean. “How much might that backlog, as you call it, be?”

McKean grinned again, loving the drama of this disclosure. “Just under six million dollars,” he said.

When they finally stopped laughing, Gil asked McKean, “Can you recommend a good realtor?”

* * * * *

Everyone had been a little startled when Peggy came home wearing diamond earrings, but they knew about Gil’s promises to provide his wife with diamonds as soon as his finances were straightened out, so they weren’t totally surprised. Peggy kept putting her hand up to her ears to be sure they hadn’t fallen out, and Herc pretended to be blinded by the sparkle every time she walked by. It was fun, but it also made things a little different. Just a short time ago, they’d all been broke, chopping their own firewood, living on rice and beans, sharing jeans and tee shirts that were somewhere between faded and ragged. Now, suddenly, John and Gil were millionaires. It wasn’t news, really, because everybody had known all along, but it was no longer theoretical. Alex didn’t say a word beyond congratulating them on getting access to their family money, but he got a little more obsessive over the speeches he was writing for the General, a little more intense, if that was possible, about reforming the tax system.

The morning of the parade, Tony astonished them all by showing up with buttons and flyers that said “Vote Anthony Wayne for Senator.”

“You’re running for the Senate?” Alex inquired, eyebrows practically up to his hairline.

“Yep,” Tony said. “Here, wear the button.” It had a green border with Tony’s face and the words “Wayne for Pennsylvania.”

“You’re going to be a fucking Senator?” John asked.

“I hope so.”

“Ha! Crazy Tony in the Senate!” Alex was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

“Maybe we want to lose the ‘Crazy Tony’ nickname under the circumstances,” Tony suggested.

Angelica threw her arms around him. “You’ll be great! Oh, my God, I can’t believe it! Why didn’t you say anything?”

Tony shrugged. “I needed to think it out for myself. But now that I’m in, do I have your votes?”

“Totally stupid question, Tony!” Herc told him.

“I knew that. I was just practicing what I’m going to be saying to the citizens in the parks today.”

“Oh, I get it now,” Alex said. “We’re going to be campaigning in those parks.”

“Well, maybe,” Tony conceded with a grin.

“How old do you have to be to be a Senator?” Eliza asked.

“Thirty,” Tony told her, “and yes, I’m old enough. I’m ten years older than Alex.”

“Wow, you’re even older than Gil,” Peggy commented with a sidelong glance at her husband, who pretended not to hear.

They all added “Wayne for Pennsylvania” buttons to whatever they were wearing in the parade. After some debate, it had been decided that all the kids except Marcy would ride on the float too, since, as Peggy pointed out, it was easier to keep track of them that way. Marcy, along with Becky and Sam, was marching with what they were now calling the Runners Brigade, several hundred young teenagers wearing green badges and waving green ribbon banners. She was almost beside herself with excitement, and John had made her promise ten times over to come right back to the house the minute the parade was over.

“This guardian thing is going to give me gray hair,” he complained, but laughingly, watching Marcy jumping around with her banners.

Gil, Herc, and Burr, with baby Teddie sporting a green hair bow; were following the float in Burr’s car.

“I have never been in a parade before,” Gil said. He looked over the green dresses Herc had made for Peggy, Eliza, and Angelica with a thoughtful eye. “I won’t object if I am never in one again.”

“It’s the color of the insurrection,” Peggy told him.

“Mm,” Gil agreed.

“Hey, I had to work with the donated satin,” Herc said. “It’s a little brighter green than I might have selected myself.”

“A little?” Angelica asked.

“Okay, I admit, it’s bright shamrock-green, and you all look like you’re going to the Leprechaun Prom, but deal with it, okay? It’s a celebration.”

The parade was a roaring success, both figuratively and literally, as the cheers and applause from the crowds lining the streets were deafening. Alex, John, Tony, the Schuyler sisters, and the children waved their banners as townspeople ran up to the float to shake their hands, blow kisses, and give them flowers. By the time the parade got to Independence Hall, they were all holding bouquets, and there were flowers piled around them on Dave’s flatbed. Both the spectators and the participants were crying when the float stopped in front of the historic building, and the crown began chanting “Hamilton! Hamilton!” Alex signaled for them to be quiet, and began to speak.

“For a long six years,” he said, “we lived on our knees. Instead of being a united country, we were fractured and fragmented by King’s repressive laws, partitioned by income, by race, by ethnicity, by gender, by orientation, by religion, by family background. Even when we wanted to unite, he made it impossible, because all his laws rested on division instead of union.

That government is over. The Second Insurrection was victorious, and we are again one people, united citizens of this great Republic. We may disagree – and we will – but never again will our government itself use those disagreements to tear us apart. In November, we will have free elections for the first time in nearly a decade. Personally, I will be supporting General Akhdir for President, but I know there will be other candidates, and I encourage you to vote for the one you feel will best lead the country. The most important thing you can do to keep our country strong is to vote. Along with General Akhdir, I urge you to register and vote. It is both your privilege and your right, and there is nothing – nothing – that will do more to keep our country free than citizen participation.

For a long time, you heard the words Rise Up and To the Revolution being shouted on the streets of this historic city. Let me offer a new watchword today. I say, and I ask all of you to say it with me, To the Constitution!”

The crowd went wild, shouting with him until they were hoarse, waving banners, and crowding around as they had done that first night. They would have dragged him off the flatbed and carried him across Independence Square if Tony and John hadn’t run interference. Finally, Tony signaled Dave to drive off slowly, and they continued along the scheduled route.

“How do you even do that?” Tony asked Alex.

“Do what?”

“Talk like that off the top of your head.”

Alex shrugged. “I kind of thought somebody might want me to say something,” he admitted, “so I’d thought about it, but, really, words are pretty easy for me.”

“You interested in writing some speeches for a Senatorial candidate?” Tony asked.

Alex nodded. “I’ve got a fair amount to do for the General,” he said, “but, yeah, as much as I can, sure.”

“Is the General paying you?” Tony asked.

“A little,” Alex said. “There’s not really enough money for a full staff yet.”

“Well, I’ll pay you a little, too.”

“Hey …”

“We’re all going to have to make a living now,” Tony reminded him.

“Okay, then,” Alex agreed. “I’ll take it.”

The celebration day turned out to be a lot more fun than they had expected. Alex, John, Tony, and Angelica went from park to park, meeting people, handing out Tony’s buttons and flyers, and sampling picnic food. Peggy, Eliza, and Herc took the kids home to the park near the house to join in the festivities. The older kids played volleyball with others from the neighborhood, and even Polly and Katie participated in a race. By dinnertime, they were all exhausted and stuffed with picnic food, so the adults gathered everybody up and headed for home. Gil carried Katie, who fell asleep the instant he picked her up, and Herc held Polly against his shoulder, where she too closed her eyes. James was almost as sleepy as Polly, but he insisted he was too big to be carried, and Harry was just thrilled at having participated in all the activities with the other runners. Marcy had tied a couple of dozen green ribbons in her hair, as had most of the other teenage girls in the parade, and she was still bouncing with joy.

“It’s the best day I ever had!” she declared. She walked home with her arm around Peggy’s waist, and Peggy’s arm around her shoulders. She glanced up a little shyly. “You look so beautiful,” she said.

Peggy laughed. “My hair is a total frizz ball from the humidity, and as much as I love Herc, this green dress is not my favorite, but thank you, Sweetie.”

“Marcy is absolutely right,” Gil agreed. He smiled at her over Katie’s head snuggled against his shoulder. “You are very beautiful.”

They had just gotten the kids to bed when Alex, John, and Angelica came home. Tony was going to the riverfront to watch the fireworks and campaign a little.

“Tony can have the campaigning gig,” John said, yawning. “I’m beat.”

“Me, too,” Angelica agreed. “My face hurts from smiling all day.”

“I’m dead on my feet,” Peggy told them. “If I don’t go to bed now, Gil will end up having to carry me upstairs too.”

 _“Mais avec plaisir, chérie,”_ Gil offered, but she laughed and went up the stairs on her own. He followed her one step behind, playing with her hair.

“I guess I’m the only one who’s still awake,” Alex said.

“It’s all that coffee,” Eliza told him. “You still need sleep.”

He shrugged. “Do you think we could see the fireworks from the end of the street?” he asked.

“You mean where the empty lot is? Maybe.”

He held out his hand. “Come on,” he coaxed. “Let’s go see.”

“Okay,” Eliza agreed, “but promise not to try to carry me home if I fall asleep.”

“Fine, I’ll do my best to keep you awake.”

She took his hand and they went out the back door and turned toward the river in the warm summer night.

“I was thinking that if we stand on the steps of the old corner store across the street from the vacant lot, we might see the fireworks,” Alex explained. “There won’t be any buildings in the way.”

“There’s a chance,” Eliza agreed. “Anyway, it’s nice night for a walk.’

He put his arm around her and pulled her close to him and she leaned her head on his shoulder. “Love you,” she said. They said it all the time.

“Love you too,” he responded, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

The city was strangely quiet after all the uproar of the day. It was not quite dark, but there were stars to be seen, and a thin sliver of crescent moon rising over the river. They couldn’t see the river from where they were, but it was only a mile or so away. The fireworks were set to go off upriver, closer to center city.

“I should have gone with Tony,” Alex said now, a little guiltily.

“Why?” Eliza asked. “You can’t do everything and go everywhere and be everything to everybody. You’re human. You need rest like we all do. Give yourself a break.”

“Mm.”

Eliza laughed. “You know I’m right.”

He tried to kiss her forehead again, but he missed and the kiss fell on her eyebrow and they both laughed. “You’re always right,” he conceded, and she laughed again and kept walking.

“Hold still so I can kiss you,” he said in a different tone, and she turned to him, a little surprised. His arms went around her, one hand in her hair, and he took the time to really kiss her, his tongue playing along her lips. He felt her sigh, and she leaned into him, and they stood kissing on a street corner like high school kids. They broke apart finally and walked hand-in-hand the rest of the way, getting to the vacant lot just as they heard the first boom. They didn’t have a great view, sitting on the top step of the old store, but they could see parts of the fireworks, and occasionally a whole display if it went high enough. They made out a little and laughed a little as they watched.

“You’re never too old for fireworks,” Eliza declared.

“True. What is it about colored lights that we humans find so fascinating? Fireworks, neon signs, Christmas tree lights. We love all that stuff.”

“Only you would make a sociological dissertation out of it.”

“You telling me to shut up?”

“Well …”

He leaned in to kiss her again. “We need more of this,” she told him.

“Fireworks or kissing?” he asked.

“I could go with the obvious cliché and say I always see fireworks when you kiss me, but…”

“But you don’t?”

“But I don’t use clichés. You could keep kissing me, though.”

He obliged. “Eliza, you know I love you.”

“I love you too,” she smiled.

“No, wait,” he said as she came back for another kiss. She stopped, frowning, her head tilted to one side, a little puzzled. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she said politely, her lips curving, but her eyes still puzzled.

“Eliza, I have nothing to offer you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“John and Gil are both millionaires as of this week. Tony’s going to be a Senator. I’m making a few bucks a week writing speeches for the General, and I’ll make a few more writing speeches for Tony, but I’m never going to be rich. I hope I’ll be able to make a decent living, but even that’s in the future. I don’t want us to live hand to mouth the way my mother had to, never knowing if she was going to be able to pay the bills or buy food. I want us to have a house and kids and some sort of stability, and I swear to you, I’ll work like crazy to make that happen. I love you so much, Eliza, but right now I don’t have a dollar to my name.”

Behind him, silver and green flashes of light sparkled and glittered, silhouetting him. He held both her hands in his, and his heart was in his eyes.

“Alexander?” she said.

“Mm?”

“Was that speech by any chance a proposal?”

He nodded, biting his lip.

“Then yes.”

“Yes? Really?”

“Of course yes.” She reached out and wiped a tear off his cheek. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. We’ll figure it out.”

He started to laugh. “Don’t ever tell anybody what a bad speech I made trying to ask you.”

“I promise I won’t.”

He took her face in his hands and looked down at her. “It’s because it mattered so much, and I was scared.”

“I know,” she whispered, and kissed him as the last burst of golden light blazed in the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Peggy and Gil will be house shopping, but the squad may have to separate. If Alex becomes more involved in national politics, he'll need to be in the capital. Where will they all end up?  
> And Alex finally proposed -- well, sort of. Only Eliza could have figured that out. What's next for them -- and John?  
> Thanks for all the fantastic, insightful comments lately. They make me so happy. I'm glad to know I have such smart and thoughtful readers! I love you guys and I love hearing from you. More soon. <3 <3 <3


	57. We'll Get a Little Place in Philly, and We'll Figure It Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil and Peggy will be staying in Philadelphia. John makes plans without Alex. Eliza tries to make plans without Alex. There is unexpected opposition to the General's candidacy. Peggy doesn't get to take a nap. Gil and Peggy look at a house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A pretty long chapter here, as once again, threads are going off in different directions.

The University of Pennsylvania had announced that in the aftermath of the Second Insurrection, it was offering a newly designed program of studies for EMT’s, nurses, and pre-med or medical students who had provided medical care for the Movement and during the Insurrection. Under King’s government, they could have been arrested and imprisoned for practicing medicine without a license, but they had saved hundreds of lives. Penn was willing to waive certain requirements and give credit for practical experience. Their standards were still high, and Gil and Ben were both fairly nervous about the initial exam, then even more nervous about the interview, but they were both accepted into the program. They would start in January, and would be able to graduate with M.D. degrees in three years.

“So you’ll be staying in Philadelphia?” Alex asked.

“For a while, it looks like,” Gil said. “I’ll still have the surgical residency after I graduate, so it will be nearly ten more years before I’m done.”

“Ten more years of school, man?” John asked. “That would kill me.”

“Yes, but when I’m done, I will be legally able to use a scalpel on people,” Gil told him. “My surgery on you was completely illegal.”

“Yeah, but I’m alive,” John reminded him.

Gil nodded. “A point in my favor.”

“How about Ben?” Eliza asked. “Will he be in the same program?”

“For the first three years,” Gil said, “but I think he wants to work in orthopedics, so not after that.”

“Remember when we all talked about going back to school?” John asked. “Now I’m not so sure.”

Eliza looked at him in surprise. “Really? Because I am definitely still going to law school.”

“You have to get a license, though,” John said. “I was an art major, and I’ve been making art all along – forged ID’s, silk maps, all kinds of drawings. I don’t know. I’m thinking of putting a portfolio together and making the rounds of galleries just to get an idea of where I stand.”

“You going to include fake ID’s in that portfolio?” Herc asked.

“Actually, yes. I’m working on a collage that will include fake ID’s, lists of names of those killed by King’s government, and faces looking through fences and flames and barricades. It’s called Identity Search.”

Everyone stared at him.

“Wow,” Angelica said. “I guess we’re not used to thinking of you as a serious artist.”

“I know,” John agreed with a grin. “It’s okay. I know who I am.”

“Amazing is what you are,” Peggy told him. “I wish I’d framed every turtle picture you ever drew for Katie, because they’ll be museum-worthy one of these days.”

“Not too late to start,” John said. “Yesterday I drew her a turtle playing with a dog at her request. She thinks it would be nice to have a dog, since Gil has been telling her about the big house with a big yard that you’re going to have.”

“A dog?” Peggy asked Gil.

He shrugged. “Why not? We’ll have plenty of room.”

“Have you actually looked at any houses yet?” Alex inquired.

Peggy gave Gil a look, but neither of them spoke.

“Oh, my God,” Angelica gasped, “not trouble in paradise?”

“Of course not,” Gil said.

“Gil has been talking to the realtor,” Peggy explained. “They’re going to try to narrow it down to a just a few, because, honestly, I just don’t feel like walking around a million houses.”

“And I am not easy to please,” Gil admitted.

“Mm,” Peggy agreed.

 _“Mais, chérie,”_ Gil began, _“tu sais …”_

“Peg, you feeling all right?” Eliza interrupted.

“Yeah, sure,” Peggy told her, “just, you know, tired. I didn’t think I’d be so tired this early.” She gave Eliza a smile and added, “Of course, I also didn’t think I’d need maternity clothes this early, and here I am in stretchy pants, so…”

“You look cute,” Eliza told her.

“She looks beautiful,” Gil corrected, “and she needs lots of rest, so I will go with Mr. Lansing and look at houses until we can take Peggy to look at two or three.”

“How many have you seen so far?” Alex asked suspiciously.

Gil looked casually at the ceiling. _“Vingt-six, je crois.”_

“Twenty-six?” Alex repeated. “You’ve looked at twenty-six houses and you can’t find one you like?”

Peggy’s mouth twitched, but Gil maintained his dignity. “They are all very nice, but they are not what would suit us.”

“We would like to be in by Thanksgiving,” Peggy reminded him gently.

_“Oui, je sais.”_

“But it has to be the perfect house,” Peggy added, in the tone that indicated this had been said before.

Gil smiled at her. “Everything else in my life is perfect,” he reminded her. “Of course the house has to be perfect too.”

Peggy looked at her sisters. “How can I argue with that?”

* * * * *

Alex and Burr had turned the family room into an office so that they had plenty of space for both of them to work. They had two desktop computers now, with a shared printer. It was something Alex had only dreamed of for years. They each had a laptop as well, and Alex still had a few tablets, but now nothing had to be hidden, and they were making real progress in restructuring the city finances.

Burr worked his schedule around Teddie’s so he could spend as much time with her as he could, and when he went upstairs to play with her after her nap, Alex pulled John into the office.

“Hey,” he said, “we need to talk.”

John was grinning at him. “You asked her, didn’t you?”

“What? Did she tell you?”

“She didn’t have to. It was the night of Celebration Day, right?”

“Yeah, but …”

“You were both all moony the next morning.”

“Moony?” Alex asked, his eyebrows up.

“You know, looking at each other like …” he batted his eyelashes and smiled.

“That bad?”

“Worse.”

“Do you suppose anybody else noticed?”

“Angelica probably. Peggy and Gil look at each other like that all the time, so they wouldn’t pay any attention, and I doubt if Herc or Burr is very interested.”

“Well, that’s what I wanted to tell you, so now I guess I don’t have to.”

“You’re such an idiot,” John told him affectionately. “Go get Eliza.”

“What? Why?”

“Could you possibly just do what I tell you for once?”

Alex shrugged and came back in a few minutes with Eliza.

John gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Congratulations on your engagement,” he said.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “Did you congratulate Alex too?”

“Nah, not yet, because we might be about to have an argument.”

“Why would we have an argument?” Alex asked.

“Come on, sit down,” John said, sitting on the floor, as usual, leaning up against the daybed that had been turned back into a couch.

Alex and Eliza joined him, and he said, “See, Alex made sure he was in the middle, didn’t he? Maybe I should congratulate him now after all.” He leaned over and kissed Alex gently, and Alex returned the kiss, while Eliza leaned on Alex’s shoulder.

“We’re still us, right?” John asked.

“Of course,” Alex said. “That’s not going to change. We’ve talked about it …”

“Just confirming,” John interrupted, “because here’s the thing I want to talk to you about, and I wanted Eliza here because it concerns all of us, but also, I may need her to talk you down.”

“Seriously, what the hell are you talking about?” Alex asked.

“I have money,” John said bluntly.

“So?”

John looked over Alex’s head at Eliza. “You’re okay with it, right?”

Eliza nodded and smiled. “Because it’s us.”

“Exactly,” John agreed.

“I’m right here,” Alex reminded them.

John reached across Alex and took Eliza’s hand. “When the General is elected, you’re going to need to live in the capital. I’ll move there with the kids, too; in fact, I’m thinking of moving at the end of the summer so they can start school. I’m going to buy a house for us, and here’s what I’m thinking: I should buy two houses near each other in a nice neighborhood.”

“You are out of your fucking mind.” Alex snapped.

“Huh, did I see that coming?” John asked Eliza.

“You did,” she responded.

“You can’t think…” Alex started, and John leaned in and kissed him, cutting off the words.

“Just shut up,” he said as he broke the kiss. “Dammit, Alex, how long has it been the three of us?”

Alex shrugged sulkily.

“Oh, that’s mature,” John commented. “Almost five years, right?”

“Yeah,” Alex muttered.

“And I’ve known almost that long that you were going to marry Eliza. I know it’s not because you love her more than you love me, but, at least under the laws we have now, you can only marry one of us, and things will be simpler if you marry her. It’s a practical decision.”

Alex looked at Eliza, but she was nodding in agreement. “But we all knew,” she said, “that it wouldn’t make any difference to us. We all still love each other. Come on, Alex, you know that’s true.”

“Of course,” Alex agreed. “Of course that hasn’t changed.”

“Then what’s the problem with my buying two houses?” John asked. “Maybe if I didn’t have the kids, we could all live in one house, but I think it makes more sense for me to have a house for me and the kids. I’m not hiding our relationship from them, but I know there will be questions. I’ll answer all their questions, and I’ll never lie to them, but plenty of adults have trouble understanding this. I want the kids to be completely comfortable, so I want the questions and answers to be on their timetable.”

“Right, I get that,” Alex said, “but then why should you buy another house?”

“God, for such a smart guy, you are stone-stupid sometimes,” John sighed. “Let me say this again. It’s us. This isn’t about a house for you and Eliza and a house for me and the kids. This is about two houses for all of us because that’s what’s going to work best for us for now. Please tell me that if you had a few million dollars, and I was broke, you wouldn’t buy a house for me and the kids to live in.”

Alex chewed his lip. “No, you’re right, I would.” He looked up at John. “You know it’s kind of hard for me not to be in charge, right?”

“Kind of?” John hooted.

“Ah, come on,” Alex said, finally smiling. “You know I want to be the superhero that overcomes all obstacles.”

John shook his head. “Nope, no superheroes here. Just us. Just humans. God, Alex, you got me my brothers and sisters, and you want to argue about bricks and mortar? Fuck that. I love you, I love Eliza, and now it’s my turn to do something.”

“Okay,” Alex agreed. “Can I ask you to do one more thing for me, then?”

“Sure.”

“Will you be my best man?”

John leaned his head on Alex’s shoulder and tried not to cry. “Fuck, yeah,” he said. Six years ago, he’d been bitter and broken and determined not to risk his heart, and now – here he was with the two he loved best, and upstairs were the brothers and sisters he’d thought lost to him forever, as well as all the others he loved. All that, he had money, and they’d won the war.

He kissed Alex just below the ear. “It’s good, isn’t it?”

Alex nodded, bumping John’s nose as he did, and making him laugh. Eliza leaned across Alex to kiss John, and then kissed Alex. They hadn’t really had any time for just the three of them since they came back from South Carolina, and, even now, somebody was likely to walk in on them at any minute, but it felt so good to sit here together. Alex pulled John closer with one arm and bent to kiss Eliza on the other side while she ran her hand up and down John’s arm.

Herc walked in around then, saw them and sketched a wave.

“Pencil,” he explained, rummaging through the desk. He found the pencil and stood for a minute smiling at them a little curiously. “You guys good?” he asked

Alex grinned, then kissed first John and then Eliza. “Eliza and I are getting married,” He told Herc. “John is going to be best man.”

Herc shook his head, still smiling. “Why am I not surprised?” he asked.

Of course, once the announcement was made, it became common knowledge. Dinner that evening was completely overwhelmed with wedding talk.

“Are you okay with a church wedding?” Eliza asked Alex.

“Well, of course,” he replied, surprised that she would even ask. “Whatever you want. Just go ahead and plan what you like, and I’ll be fine with it.”

“Right,” Eliza said, raising her eyebrow. “So you’re fine with a sky-blue tux?”

“What? No, seriously, you don’t mean that.”

“No, I don’t, but you don’t mean you’d be fine with anything I’d plan. You know, Alex, you have opinions on things.”

Alex considered that for a minute. “Well, maybe, but not on things like wedding traditions. You have very good taste, and I trust you.”

“Eliza, take him at his word,” Angelica said. “Just get the whole thing planned and then tell him about it.”

Eliza took a breath. “I was thinking around the end of September,” she began.

“What?” Alex inquired instantly, turning to look at her in alarm. “How could we possibly get married before the election? I have so much work to do.”

“Okay, then,” Eliza said, “how’s late November?”

“Sure, whatever you want,” Alex told her. He looked around the table, not understanding why everyone, including Eliza, was laughing at him.

“Angelica, Peggy, as my bridesmaids, will you sit down with me tomorrow and help me draw up a tentative wedding plan?” Eliza asked. “Once we have all the details worked out, we’ll present it to General Hamilton for his approval.”

Her sisters agreed, still laughing. As they were clearing the table, John leaned close to Eliza and whispered, “Good luck!”

* * * * *

Early in August, General Akhdir announced his selection of Matthew Lyon as his Vice-Presidential candidate. Matt had been part of Ethan’s squad throughout the Movement and during the insurrection. Recently, he had acted as a mediator with the different factions in Texas, resolving what could have been serious problems there. The Akhdir-Lyon ticket of the Constitution Party met with approval pretty much everywhere, and for a short time it seemed that there would be no serious opposition to the General’s candidacy for President. A few other candidates would be on the ballot, but none of them had any significant following. Tony had put Molly in charge of voter registration and she was working hard, but without any real sense of urgency.

That changed when, three days after the General’s introduction of his prospective Vice President, the formation of the Patriot Party was announced. Their nominee for President was none other than Ben Arnold, with André Johns as the Vice-Presidential candidate.

Alex spent most of the day ranting and swearing.

“Those fucking Shippens!” he yelled the minute the news was broadcast. “We will never be done with them!”

“Come on,” John said, “who’s going to vote for Ben Arnold? He’s switched parties about ten times by now. Does anybody even have any idea what he stands for?”

“Patriot Party, my ass!” Alex continued, ignoring John. “He’s no more a patriot than George King himself! And who the hell is André Johns that he should be Vice President? Does he have any experience in government at all? Other than being Ben’s wife’s ex-boyfriend, what are his qualifications?”

“Well, he’s cute,” Angelica offered, and set Alex off again.

“Are you fucking telling me that you think people are going to vote for this guy because he’s pretty? Seriously? He’s an idiot, and Arnold is a lying opportunist.”

“You’re right,” Gil said, “but all of that will have to be said by the General. You’re going to have to be sure that the speeches you’re writing tell the voters the truth about Arnold.”

“You’ve met both of them, right?” Alex asked Gil. “I need you to sit down and talk to me about them.”

Gil did as requested, and Alex spent a few hours grilling him on every detail he could remember from his meetings with the two men. He took copious notes and rewrote speeches for the General. He thought he was making progress until the first commercial for the Arnold-Johns ticket appeared on TV.

The video was short, but beautifully made and frighteningly persuasive. It opened with a shot of Ben Arnold and his beautiful, stylish wife, the former Meg Shippen, walking down the steps of the church after Sadie’s funeral. Somber music played in the background as Sadie’s face was superimposed on the scene. An announcer spoke movingly of the sacrifices of the Shippen family, as Sadie’s picture was followed by one of her father. The scene then shifted to a series of shots showing Ben Arnold with Judge Shippen, with George King, and with President Washington, and the sincere voice pointed out that Ben Arnold had extensive experience working with all points of view. The commercial faded out on a shot of Ben Arnold and André Johns standing side by side and looking off into the distance heroically.

“Son of a bitch!” Alex screamed at the TV, and only Angelica’s quick reflexes kept him from throwing a shoe at it. “Fucking asshole!” He punched the wall. He was still yelling five minutes later when Tony walked in.

“I was going to ask if you’d seen it,” Tony started, “but …”

 _“Espèce de connard!”_ Alex continued, having run out of insults in English. _“Desgraciado!”_

“Yo!” Tony said. “Chill. I need to talk to you.”

It took a while longer for Alex to stop yelling, but he continued pacing and muttering until Eliza put a cup of coffee into his hands. He took a gulp and looked at Tony as if he’d just noticed him. “Yeah,” he said, “we’re going to have to counter that.”

Tony didn’t get a chance to respond before Alex’s phone went off. Alex looked at the screen and then told Tony. “Sorry, I have to get this. It’s the General.”

The reason for the call was pretty obvious, and Alex’s end of the conversation consisted mostly of repeating “Yes, sir” several times. They talked for a few minutes about images and then

Alex hung up. “We’re fucked,” he said to Tony.

“What do you mean?” Tony asked.

“How much experience do you have in film production?” Alex looked wildly around the room, as if hoping to see a production company standing there.

“There have got to be people you can hire,” Tony said.

“Sure,” Alex agreed, “but I don’t even know where to begin. We’ve got three months until the election. By the time I figure out who to call and what to do, it will be too late.”

John looked up speculatively from where he was playing chess with Herc. “Call Rafe Peale,” he said.

“Who?”

“Rafe Peale. He was a freshman art major, but he was going to specialize in film. I’m telling you, the kid was a fucking artistic genius.”

“You have any idea where he is?”

“I think he was from Philly, actually. He had a sister Sophie, who was an artist too. She was still in high school, but I met her once when she came up to visit him. I mean, I don’t know for sure what they’re doing now, but it’s a place to start.”

Alex nodded and started fiddling with his phone. After a minute, he looked up. “You said Rafe, right? Do you think that’s short for something like Rayford?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” John told him, trying to figure out what to do with his bishop.

Alex frowned. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

“Rayford?” Tony asked.

“No, Peale.”

“Oh, you mean because of the silk maps?” Herc inquired, knocking down John’s king.

“Dammit,” John muttered.

“What?” Alex asked.

“He beat me again,” John said.

“No, what Herc said.”

“The silk maps,” Herc repeated, while John looked back and forth from him to Alex in confusion. “Remember when TJ brought them, he said that the entire Peale family was working on them.”

“I don’t, actually, but maybe that’s where I heard the name. Would it be the same Peale family?”

Herc shrugged. “I don’t know, but John just said this Rafe guy and his sister were both artists, so there’s a good chance.”

“And they would have been working on the maps at Headquarters, right? Forget trying to track this guy down, then, I’m just going to call the General’s office and see what I can find out.”

A few minutes later, he had a number for Rafe Peale, who was now living in Bucks County, just north of Philadelphia. He put the call through, and Rafe answered. It took Alex a few minutes to explain who he was and why he was calling, but once he clarified what he wanted, Rafe offered his enthusiastic support.

“I’d be thrilled to work on the General’s campaign,” he said. “I’ll bring some examples of my film work. If you don’t mind, my sister Sophie works in film too, and I’d like to bring her along.”

“No, that’s great,” Alex said. “John Laurens mentioned her as well.”

Rafe sounded thrilled. “I can’t believe John Laurens knows who I am. Wow! Wait till I tell Sophie.”

“He actually referred to you as a ‘fucking artistic genius,’” Alex told him, “so you can prove him right. Can you meet with us here soon?”

Rafe agreed, and they set up an appointment for later in the week.

Alex looked up at the rest of them. “He’s really excited, and he sounds like he’s about fourteen.”

“Youthful enthusiasm may not be a bad thing,” Tony commented.

“Here’s hoping he’s got skill as well as enthusiasm,” Alex said. “We’ve got to take down Ben Arnold.”

* * * * *

“I think,” Gil said to Peggy, “that I have found a house that might be suitable.”

Peggy was lying down on their bed in the middle of the afternoon because she was feeling tired, and Gil insisted that she rest every day. He had pulled a chair up next to the bed and was reviewing his house checklist on his tablet.

“Does it meet all your criteria?” Peggy asked, smiling.

“Well, almost,” he told her. “Actually, it does, but here’s the situation – the house has not been lived in for some time, and it is a little, um, shabby. It would need some modernization and a little cosmetic work, but in spite of that, I think it may be the right house.”

Peggy was intrigued. Up until now, Gil had dismissed any house that even had a paint color that he didn’t like. “Why do you think that?” she wanted to know, watching his face.

“Well,” he said, “it’s big enough, and that is an important requirement. Seven bedrooms and four full baths, plus two or three half baths, I forget. And then, of course two apartments for the staff, a one-bedroom and a two-bedroom.”

“Staff? Staff who live in the house?” Peggy was trying to imagine how that worked.

“No, not exactly in the house, but in their own apartments. We’ll have privacy, and so will they.”

“Okay. What kind of staff?”

“I thought we would start with a housekeeper and a gardener-handyman, so we would probably want to look for a married couple. They would have the two-bedroom apartment.”

Peggy nodded.

“We would have to hire people who speak French, of course.”

“Of course.”

He looked at her suspiciously. “Are you humoring me?” he asked.

“I don’t know, really. This is all way, way out of my league. Why would the staff have to speak French? I mean, we both speak English.”

“But we’ll be raising the children to speak both, so of course it would be logical that the staff speak both French and English.”

“Okay, I understand now. So who gets the one-bedroom apartment?”

“The nanny.”

“Who will also speak French.”

_“Naturellement.”_

“Seven bedrooms, so that’s a master bedroom, and six for the children?”

“I was thinking four for the children and two guest rooms.”

She nodded and turned on her side to face him. “That sounds reasonable. And I assume it has a kitchen and dining room, and all those other things.”

“Of course.”

“And you actually want me to see this one?”

He nodded, smiling, and she could see that under his calm façade, he was excited. There was something about this house that made him happy, and she vowed silently to love the house unless it had gigantic holes in the roof or a colony of raccoons living in it. She smiled back at him. “When can we see it?”

“Maybe later today, after you rest?”

“I’m not actually resting right now,” she pointed out.

He looked contrite. “That is my fault for talking to you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she told him. “Come lie down with me. It will help me relax.”

His eyebrow went up, but he didn’t argue. He kicked off his shoes and stretched out next to her.

“How beautiful you are,” he said, tangling his fingers in her curls.

She closed her eyes just to enjoy the sensation of his hands in her hair. Then his finger traced her jaw and her cheek, and then her lips. She opened her mouth a little in response, and his finger moved back and forth, and she touched it with her tongue. He let her wet it, then ran it back across her bottom lip. She sighed, following it with her tongue, and inevitably, he leaned in for the kiss, his tongue taking the place of his finger.

 _“Ah, chérie,”_ he murmured, kissing her throat and sliding his hand under her shirt. _“Les habits ne me plaîsent pas.”_

_“Et alors?”_

_“Et alors je t’aide,”_ he told her, carefully removing her shirt.

“Is the door locked?” she asked, as he unhooked her bra with a quick flick of his fingers, and threw it on the floor.

“Mm-hm,” he said, taking a minute to admire her breasts, a little fuller now than before she was pregnant. He bent to lick her nipples, and she didn’t even bother asking him why he had locked the door. He slipped his hand inside the waistband of her pants and slid them down over her hips, then ran his hand over her belly, admiring its smooth roundness.

“The baby needs room to grow,” he said.

“The baby will have lots of room,” she told him. She watched his hand moving over her, watched his face looking at her body, now visibly pregnant. She smiled at him. “You like that, don’t you? You like that you can see changes.”

 _“Ah, chérie,_ I cannot even explain it. We made love, and out of that – out of our love and passion, there is this. There is a child, part you and part me. I understand the science, but – _le vrai m’étonne. Ça, je n’attendais pas.”_

She put her hand on his face. “It’s almost enough to make an atheist believe in miracles.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Almost.” He leaned over and kissed her, her mouth, her throat, her breasts, her navel, and then he left a circle of kisses around the swell of her belly. “The baby likes that,” he murmured.

It made her laugh, not at what he said, but just from the joy of seeing him like this and knowing how happy he was. _“Tu es sûr?”_

“ _Mais oui,”_ he responded, completely confident. He slid his hand between her legs, and she moved toward him. He used his palm to give her just a little pressure where it felt good, then opened her with one finger. He smiled at her quick gasp and kissed her mouth as his finger circled.

“That’s so good,” she whispered when he gave her time for a breath

_“Ça te plait?”_

_“Oui, beaucoup.”_

“The baby likes it too.”

She laughed again, her mouth close to his, and he moved his hand, two fingers inside her now, and his thumb circling and caressing. She spread her legs farther and pressed her hips toward his hand. “The baby likes this too?” she asked him, breathing hard.

“Oh, yes. Does it feel good to you?” As he asked, he moved his thumb faster and bent to take her right nipple in his mouth. He sucked on it, scraping it very gently with the edge of his teeth. “Hm?” he continued, moving to her left nipple. _“Dis-moi, chérie.”_

“Yes, better than anything.”

“And will this feel good?” He was on top of her now, holding his weight on his arms, but rubbing his full length against her. She pulled her knees back and lifted her hips, and he smiled and kissed her slowly, taking his time. “I want you to feel very, very good,” he whispered, and she whimpered, pressing against him. He took a breath and pulled back, then pushed in as slowly as he could, holding her hips in place with one hand. She wanted so much to move forward, but she let him control it, and every second that he took increased the intensity of her arousal. It felt like time stood still for that moment, and then he was wholly inside her. He waited for a breath, tight against her, and then he began to move, and he let go of her so that she could move with him, keeping just his thumb on her, sliding easily in her wetness, both of them panting as the tension built higher and higher. He watched her face, her eyes wide and unfocused, her lips parted, and he knew the instant she caught the breath that began her release, saw her press her teeth against her bottom lip so she wouldn’t make any noise, and at that moment, he pushed into her hard, and let go of all his control, giving her himself as completely as he could.

He held her tight afterward. “The baby really liked that,” he told her, and she started laughing again.

“You are crazy,” she said.

 _“Non, écoute,”_ he began. “That felt good for you, yes?”

“Yes,” she responded, “very, very, very good. It always feels very good. It feels better than anything else there is – but you already know that.”

He nodded. “Of course. But from a scientific point of view …”

She started to giggle. “Are you seriously going to talk about the scientific aspect of orgasm? Right now? Because I think I could live without that.”

He smiled. “ _Un petit peu de patience, ma chérie._ All those good feelings, you know, they are because of the hormones that rush into your blood at that moment.”

“Okay.”

“So if they are in your blood, then they are in the baby’s blood too. And the baby feels good.”

She put her hand over her face. “Are you sure that’s how it works? Because I’ve never heard this before.”

He looked at her steadily, still smiling. “I don’t actually have evidence, I admit.”

She giggled again.

“But,” he went on, “this is my own entirely original scientific hypothesis. Babies whose parents have lots of sex during the pregnancy are happier because they – the babies, I mean – have the experience of all the good and loving feelings.”

“Your hypothesis, huh?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Are you hoping to get a grant or something to study this?”

He shrugged, but his smile got broader. “I was thinking we could do the initial study in our family.”

“And how would that work?”

“Well, I think that whenever you are pregnant, we should make love often, and then we will compare our babies to other people’s babies and see which ones are happier.”

She laughed. “Is that procedure what they call the scientific method?”

“Maybe not exactly.”

“Is this your way of letting me know that my being pregnant isn’t going to slow anything down?”

He kissed her. “It never occurred to me that it would.”

* * * * *

It was late in the afternoon by the time they left to meet Mr. Lansing, the realtor. They drove west from the city, Peggy looking out the window to study the neighborhoods.

“The house is in an area called the Main Line,” Gil told her.

“The Main Line of what?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. But it’s a very nice area. Older homes, lots of trees, and good schools, Mr. Lansing says.”

 _Well, he would say that. He’s trying to sell houses,_ Peggy thought.

“It’s close to Penn, too,” Gil added.

“That would be convenient.” She studied his face for a few minutes. “Why do you like this house so much?”

He smiled. “You’ll see.”

“It really is pretty here,” she said, as they turned into a neighborhood of well-maintained lawns and tall trees. Most of the homes were older, built early in the twentieth century. They rounded a bend, and Gil pulled the Audi up to the curb behind Mr. Lansing’s blue Chevy.

The velvety expanse of lawn swept uphill to the gray stone house. On the right, a stone terrace larger than the entire first floor of Andy’s house was bordered by a low parapet. A huge oak tree stood to the side of the terrace. On the left, the façade of the house showed mullioned windows under a steeply-pitched slate roof. There seemed to be three sections to the house: the front one facing the road, and then behind that another one that stretched across the back of the terrace, and finally another one in the back, rising a story higher than the others. She counted four chimneys.

She sat and stared, and it was a minute before she realized that Gil had opened her door and was standing there waiting for her.

“Oh, Gil,” she whispered.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“It’s a big stone house,” she said, her throat tight. “A big stone house like we’ve always talked about.”

“Mm-hm.” He was smiling.

Hand-in-hand, they followed Mr. Lansing up the very long stone walkway to the front door.

“Don’t worry,” Gil told her. “There is a driveway on the side and garages in the back.”

“Garages, plural?” she asked.

“Mm, four, I think.”

The front door opened into a foyer with original wood paneling. The staircase wound up on the right, and on the left were two large rooms, both with big stone fireplaces, one lined with bookshelves. The rooms were large and had the potential to be beautiful, but the walls had last been painted a couple of decades ago, and the woodwork was in need of cleaning and polishing.

“The living room and the library,” Mr. Lansing announced, gesturing.

“Library?” Peggy asked.

“Maybe my office?” Gil suggested.

They walked through the foyer into a wainscoted dining room with windows across the back. The top pane of each window included a stained glass design with scrolls and flowers. Between the dining room and the kitchen was a long butler’s pantry with what seemed to Peggy like more storage than any family could ever use. The kitchen was large but badly needed updating. Beyond the kitchen was a smaller room that didn’t seem to have a purpose.

“Servants' sitting room, I think,” Mr. Lansing remarked, and Peggy gulped.

The bedrooms upstairs seemed to go on forever, and all the bathrooms looked to be in need of work. The master bedroom was huge.

“There’s space for a sitting room,” Gil pointed out.

Peggy nodded, but looked up at the ceiling where part of the plaster had fallen away.

“There was a leak, but it’s been repaired,” Mr. Lansing explained.

The master bath had apparently been updated some time ago by someone who was fond of pink and gold. “We wouldn’t have to keep the pink bathtub, would we?” Peggy asked, and Gil laughed.

 _“Chérie,_ we will not keep anything ugly, I promise you.”

“But how in the world…” she began, feeling overwhelmed.

“Actually,” Gil said, “I thought we would leave that to Herc.”

She spun around to look at him. “But that’s perfect!” she exclaimed. She looked around again, realizing what this house could become in the hands of someone with both taste and ability.

“There’s one more thing I want to show you,” Gil said, holding tight to her hand. “It’s up on the third floor.”

"Third floor?" Peggy asked. "Really?"

 _"Je suis désolé, chérie,"_ Gil apologized, "but I want you to see it."

He looked like a little kid with a secret.

"Okay," she said, putting her hand in his, "but let's take it slowly."

“Are you tired?” he asked.

“A little,” she told him, “but my sense of balance is off. My center of gravity is not where it used to be."

He signaled to Mr. Lansing to wait on the lower level, then held her hand and hovered over her as they went up the additional flight of stairs. It took them to the top of the rear wing that included the dining room and kitchen and the four garages.

As Peggy came to the top of the stairs and looked around, she saw a single huge room the width and length of the entire wing. The hardwood floors were edged with an intricate inlaid pattern, and each of the long windows had an upholstered seat, although the upholstery was shabby and worn. At one end of the room was a raised platform like a stage. At the other end, facing west, an elaborate stained-glass window cast rainbow shadows from the setting sun. Five huge crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling.

She stepped into the room, Gil right behind her, and spun slowly around. "It looks like a ballroom," she said, laughing.

"Actually," Gil said, "it is a ballroom."

"For all the balls we have?" she asked helplessly.

"For the balls we might want to have ..."

"Because we happen to have a ballroom."

He shrugged, smiling down at her. "Well, yes."

"Gil, _chéri,_ how many balls might we have in the next, oh, ten years?"

"Mm, there would of course be the annual Christmas ball ..."

"Of course."

"And charity balls," he continued hopefully.

"Mm-hm."

"And at other times it would make a wonderful playroom for the children."

"I'm sure they would love the chandeliers." She was trying to keep a straight face.

"Do you like it?" he asked, a little coaxing, a little anxious.

"Of course I like it! It's gorgeous! But, really, a ballroom?"

"Well, we need a house, and we like this house, and it's big enough for all the kids."

"We don't even have two kids yet."

"But why move again? Let's get the big house now."

"And it has a ballroom, just in case we need one."

 _"Exactement!"_ he agreed. He smiled down at her, beaming with excitement and pride that he had found them the perfect house.

"Should I ask how much it costs?" she asked cautiously.

He looked away for a few seconds, but kept smiling. "We will pay cash for it," he assured her.

"Gil?"

He shrugged. "It's well under three million."

"Three million!" she squeaked.

"No, no, not that much! Only two point six million."

She collapsed against him laughing, because she should have foreseen this, Gil finding some fantastic fairy-tale palace -- with a ballroom! -- and presenting it to her like a cup of tea: here, _chérie,_ have a nice house, you will feel better.

Mr. Lansing was apparently becoming uneasy downstairs. "How are you doing up there, folks?" he called.

"He probably thinks I'm hysterical," Peggy whispered, still giggling.

"But do you like the house, _chérie?_ " Gil asked softly. "Of course, we will have some alterations made before we move in, so it will be suitable for us."

"Of course," Peggy agreed. "But we should keep the gold-plated faucets in the master bath."

 _"Comment?_ Gold-plated?" He looked at her face and laughed. "You are teasing me."

"Yes, I am. I don't really want gold-plated faucets."

"I am glad to hear that. I didn't think I could be mistaken about your excellent taste. So should I tell Mr. Lansing yes?"

She nodded, curls bouncing, laughing, because every important moment of their lives together had been punctuated by laughter.

"Yes. Tell him yes. We want the house."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actual true facts: the University of Pennsylvania has one of the best medical schools in the country. The Main Line, in the western suburbs of Philly, is an area named for the main commuter rail line that ran there early in the twentieth century. There are indeed many beautiful old homes on the Main Line. Note that one says, "on," not "in" the Main Line. Details matter.  
> I spent way more time than I should have scrolling through real estate listings in the area before I found Peggy and Gil's house. I added the ballroom and raised the price accordingly.  
> Like most of the characters in this tale, Rafaelle Peale and his sister Sophonisba are real historical people. The Peale family -- all artists -- is worth looking up.  
> It's August, and John wants to get the kids moved before school starts. They'll be the first ones to move out, which makes me a little sad, but things are changing.  
> Change is the only constant in life. I don't remember who said that, but it's true.  
> Many thanks to all of you wonderful people who leave me kudos and comments. I've had some of the loveliest comments lately that make me so happy. If my writing moves you or touches you or makes you think about something in a new way, then I am doing exactly what I hope to do, and my belief that I am a "real" writer is affirmed. Lots and lots of love to you all, and thank you again.


	58. Decisions Are Happening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title says it: decisions about houses, a wedding, and how to produce ads that will help defeat Ben Arnold

Mr. Lansing had been beyond delighted to receive a cash offer for a house he had thought would sit on the market for months, if not years, and agreed that they could arrange settlement within a few weeks. Gil and Peggy pulled Herc into the kitchen as soon as they got home.

“We found a house!” Peggy told him, while Gil pulled up the dozens of pictures he’d taken on his phone.

“It’s basically in good condition,” Gil said, handing Herc the phone, “but it needs some work. We were hoping you could help us.”

Herc stared intently at the picture of the foyer, enlarging it to see the details. “Help how?” he inquired, not taking his eyes from the screen.

“Would you be willing to take on the job of renovating and redecorating it?” Gil asked, a little tentative.

Herc didn’t answer, having come to the picture of the pink and gold bathroom. “Holy shit,” he said, “that is one ugly mess.”

“Right,” Peggy agreed. “That’s why we need your help.”

Herc finally looked up. “You want me to redo this house?”

Peggy nodded. “The kitchen and bathrooms really need to be updated, and everything else needs painting, refinishing, other things. I don’t even know, really.”

Herc looked back at the screen. “Are those stained-glass transoms in the dining room?”

“You mean the top windows? Yeah.”

“Place was built in the 1920’s, right?”

“Yes, 1928,” Gil told him. “How did you know?”

“Architecture,” Herc said briefly, rolling his eyes. “God, is that wainscoting _chestnut?_ ”

“No idea,” Gil responded, glancing at Peggy, who just shrugged.

Herc looked up at Gil. “The whole house needs work, but a lot of it is cosmetic. I’d like to see it in person.”

“Definitely, as soon as that can be arranged. Herc, you understand we’re offering you a job, right, not asking for a favor?”

“Yeah, I figured, but still … what’s your budget for this?”

“Whatever it needs."

“No, seriously.”

“I am serious,” Gil said. “We plan to live in this house for a very long time, raise our family there, so we want it to suit us. The realtor said there may be things like electrical wiring that need updating, so all of that should be done at the same time.”

“So you’re offering me a job to renovate and restore a 1928 stone Tudor Revival mansion to suit the needs and tastes of a couple of my best friends, and I have essentially an unlimited budget on that?”

Gil nodded, smiling. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“Fuck, yeah, I want the job!”

Peggy hugged him, and he started asking questions about styles and colors as he continued through the pictures. He stopped scrolling suddenly and stared at the screen for a full minute.

Finally he looked up. “Is that a fucking _ballroom?_ ”

* * * * *

John, Eliza, and Alex had come to an agreement that Eliza would handle the wedding plans while John and Alex scanned real estate sites to find houses in the Potomac area. Eliza asked Angelica, as her maid of honor, to help her with organizing the wedding, and Angelica immediately called a Schuyler sisters meeting.

“So, first thing, I guess,” Angelica began, looking at the list she had made on her tablet, “is to figure out where you’ll have the wedding and how big it will be.”

“Not big,” Eliza said firmly. “Just us and Tony’s squad and some of the local people that we know.”

Angelica and Peggy exchanged glances. “We’ve gotten to know quite a few local people,” Angelica reminded her.

“And you’re going to get to know more people before the election,” Peggy added.

Eliza sighed and got up to put the kettle on for more tea. This wedding planning thing was not as much fun as she’d expected it to be. “Maybe we should elope.”

Angelica shook her head. “You can’t. You’re marrying General Hamilton, the Voice of the Second Insurrection.”

“I hate when people call him that.”

“Yeah, but he loves it,” Angelica pointed out.

Eliza had to smile at that. “Okay, so, all of us and Tony’s squad and local people like Roger and Dave and Annie and the Jenkinses and whoever else we get to know before November. So maybe a hundred?”

“At least.”

“I think you ought to allow for a hundred and fifty,” Peggy suggested. “What about TJ and Maddie and Ethan and Frank Marion?”

“Oh, gosh, of course, Frank, and I guess TJ.” Eliza looked at Angelica. “There’s always somebody you don’t really like but have to invite, right?”

“Right,” Angelica said, “but somebody ought to be assigned to keep him and Alex apart at all times.”

“I’ll get Roger to appoint somebody for that,” Eliza laughed. “So, okay, a hundred and fifty.” The kettle whistled and she poured the water over the teabags, thinking for a few minutes. “I’d really like to have it at St. Cecilia’s.”

“That would be nice,” Peggy said, accepting the mug that Eliza handed her. “Why don’t you call Father Mike?”

“Let me talk to Alex first.”

Angelica smiled and blew on her tea before taking a sip. “I thought he promised to agree to whatever you decided.”

Eliza gave her the raised eyebrow. “Oh, please. You know Alex. I’m pretty sure he’ll be okay with St. C’s, but I just want to check before I call.”

“Fine,” Angelica agreed, entering information on her tablet. “Tentatively a hundred and fifty at St. Cecilia’s. Now how about your attendants. That would be us, right?”

“Yes, of course, and Katie as flower girl. Actually, I was thinking maybe Katie and Polly both.”

“That would be adorable,” Peggy said.

“And maybe Marcy as a junior bridesmaid?” Eliza continued.

“She will be thrilled to pieces.”

“And Alex will have John, Gil, and Herc, of course,” Angelica went on, making more notes.

“And Burr, he said.”

“Oh, that will mean a lot to him,” Peggy said.

Angelica added another note and scrolled down. “Reception?”

“Our ballroom, of course!”

“Did you mention that to Gil yet?” Eliza asked.

“No, haven’t had a chance. I should go tell him now.”

“Go ahead,” Angelica said. “I’ll make more tea.”

Peggy found Gil studying in the living room. She had to stop and look at him for just a minute. He’d finally been able to get the glasses he’d been needing and had chosen a steel-framed professorial style. He was staring intently at his book through them, a pencil stuck in his curls, his long legs thrown over the arm of the chair that really wasn’t big enough for him. After a minute, he looked up and saw her and smiled. That smile still did it every time, and she crossed the room to sit on his lap for a minute.

He put his arms around her and kissed her, taking his time, his fingers running through her hair, and she melted into him.

“I love your mouth,” she murmured, and he came back for more.

Herc coughed loudly from across the room. “It’s the middle of a weekday afternoon,” he pointed out.

 _“Et alors?”_ Gil asked.

“If that means what I think it does, you said you wanted to talk to me this afternoon. Oh, and Angelica was looking for Peggy when I came through the kitchen.”

“Oh, damn,” Peggy said. “I got distracted.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Herc agreed.

“Are you telling me you didn’t come in here to make out with me?” Gil asked, pretending to be hurt.

“No. I mean yes, that’s what I’m telling you. Not that I wasn’t enjoying it.” She started to blush, and he laughed.

“Don’t even say it,” Herc told him.

“She is, though,” Gil insisted, and Herc rolled his eyes.

“Let me go find Angelica,” Peggy began, then stopped. “No, you know what, you guys come out into the kitchen because we all need to talk about the same thing. Where are Alex and John?”

“They were in the family room arguing about real estate listings,” Gil said. “That’s why I came out here to read.”

Peggy put her hands on her hips. “Yeah, we really need Angelica.”

Ten minutes later, all the adults in the house were gathered around the kitchen table.

“We need Marcy,” Eliza said. “Harry can keep an eye on the little kids.”

John raised his eyebrows at her, but went to get his sister. They heard him yell, “Yo! Everybody! Hands to yourselves. No poking anybody else!” He returned to the kitchen with Marcy, who looked a little bewildered.

“Poking?” Peggy asked him in an aside.

“Crayons,” John responded. “James figured out they could be used as tiny swords.”

“And there’s another parenting challenge that I never thought about.”

Angelica stood up. “It has come to my attention,” she stated, scanning the faces around the table, “that we have a lot of overlapping issues that could be settled in one meeting. I’m in charge of the meeting.”

“Why are we meeting?” Alex asked. “I have stuff to do.”

“Some of this is your stuff,” Angelica told him. “Okay, Eliza, you first.”

“Alex, pay attention,” Eliza said. “Are you okay with the Saturday after Thanksgiving for the wedding?”

“Like two days later?”

“Yes.”

He thought for a minute. “Yeah, that would be good. Election will be over, and no matter where we’re living, we’ll be at Peggy and Gil’s for Thanksgiving, so we’ll all be in the area.” He nodded. “I like it.”

“How about St. Cecilia’s?” Eliza continued.

“I guess. I like Father Mike. How Catholic do we have to be?”

“Were you baptized Catholic?” Angelica asked.

Alex nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then you’re good.”

“But Eliza’s not …” Alex tried to point out.

“Episcopalian,” Angelica cut him off. “Close enough, and anyway, as long as one of you is Catholic, Father Mike will perform the ceremony.”

“Okay, then,” Alex agreed.

Eliza passed a piece of paper to Alex. “This is what I think our wedding party will look like. Read it and tell me if it’s all okay with you.”

Alex looked it over, and a grin spread across his face. “This is good,” he said, and leaned over to kiss Eliza.

Eliza took the paper back. “When I was a little girl, I decided that when I got married, I would have a rainbow wedding.”

John’s hand went up. “Sorry, explain that please. What’s a rainbow wedding? Do I have to wear anything weird?”

“No, sorry, it’s not about the guys.” She paused for a minute. “Unless we get them matching vests …”

“No,” said Alex.

“Fine,” Eliza went on. “It’s just that all the girls will be in different colors instead of all in the same color. So I’ve had a little bit of a color consultation with my sisters, and here’s the plan. Maid of Honor Angelica Schuyler, accompanied by Best Man John Laurens, will wear pink. Bridesmaid Peggy Motier, accompanied by Groomsman Gil Motier, will wear yellow. Junior bridesmaid Marcy Laurens-Schuyler, accompanied by Groomsman Aaron Burr, will wear green, and flower girls Katie Schuyler and Polly Laurens-Schuyler, accompanied by groomsman Hercules Mulligan, will wear lilac. My dress will be trimmed with blue, so I think it will really be pretty.”

Everybody talked at once.

Marcy, literally jumping up and down, gasped “I’m going to be in the wedding?”

"Thanks, Alex," Burr said, shaking his hand. "I'm delighted to be part of your wedding."

“A coral-pink, though, not a rose-pink,” Angelica insisted.

“I will definitely need a maternity bridesmaid gown,” Peggy said. “Do you know where we can find one?”

“I don’t want to walk with Angelica,” John threw in, just to cause trouble.

Herc tried to say something, but couldn’t make himself heard, so he tried again. “Yo! I need to ask Eliza something!”

It got quiet and Eliza looked at Herc questioningly. He smiled. “I just wondered if you want me to make the gowns.”

“I would love for you to make the gowns! I just wasn’t sure if you’d have time with working on Peggy and Gil’s house.”

“Should be fine,” Herc said. “They make settlement next week, so I’ll have nearly three months. A lot of what I’ll be doing there is coordinating skilled trades, and Dave Coleman has already agreed to work as project supervisor.” He turned to Gil. “You have no idea how much the local guys appreciate your giving them the opportunity to work on this. We all know that the mansion recently purchased by the Marquis and Marquise de Lafayette will end up in magazines. I don’t mind that at all, myself. If I do a good job, the publicity will help me get other jobs.”

“Magazines? Really?” Peggy asked.

“I haven’t had a chance to tell you, but Mr. Lansing called me this morning,” Gil said. “Apparently someone recognized me when I went with him the first time to see the house, and he has had some calls about it. Now that we will definitely be living there, there is quite a bit of local interest.”

“I really, really don’t want to be a celebrity,” Peggy told him.

 _“Moi non plus,”_ he agreed quickly, “but perhaps we can give the occasional interview and let a photographer take a few pictures of our lovely home. If we cooperate a little, they will leave us in peace.”

“You grew up with this, didn’t you?”

He just shrugged.

“Have you been lying to me about how small the castle in France really is?” Peggy asked suspiciously.

“But, _chérie,_ I wanted you to marry me, so I didn’t want to scare you.”

Marcy was giggling and Angelica was rolling her eyes, so Eliza moved on.

“Last wedding detail, or at least last for now. Peggy has kindly offered the ballroom at their house for the reception, so as long as that’s okay with Alex, that’s where it will be.”

“Of course it’s okay with me,” Alex said. He looked at Gil. “You’ve got a fucking _ballroom?_ ”

“It’s very nice,” Gil told him calmly. He turned to Peggy. “See? I told you it would be useful!”

* * * * *

John and Alex had made a short list of possible houses in the Potomac area and were planning on driving down with Eliza to check them out. Before they could go, though, they had to meet with Rafe Peale and his sister Sophie.

The Peale siblings looked as though someone had told them to dress for the roles of “young avant garde artists” in a new play. Rafe had straight dark hair standing up in a spiky cut and sported a close-cropped goatee. Just above his wrist was a tattoo of the Philadelphia skyline with the phrase _We built this city_. He wore mismatched thrift store clothes and a scarlet bow tie. Sophie had bright pink hair tied in a dozen or so tiny ponytails with colorful ribbons that matched the long series of rainbow hearts tattooed down her arm. Her fluffy miniskirt, or maybe tutu, revealed several other tattoos, some pictorial, others in lettering.

Rafe was eager to show them his work. He set up his laptop and played a series of film pieces, most of them without sound. It was immediately evident that he had a real gift for capturing moments and moods and for playing with light and shadow. “If you show me your script,” he said, “I can figure out what film we need to give it the biggest impact.”

Alex showed him a couple of brief storyboards that he had put together as outlines for video ads for the General. Rafe looked them over and nodded.

“Arnold’s ad is slick, but it has almost no original footage,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Alex asked.

“You didn’t notice? Except for that one spot at the end, where they’re gazing into the distance – and I mean, seriously, how cliché is that? – it’s all a montage of old stills and news video. We can do better than that.”

“Even I didn’t notice that,” John said. “I told you the kid was a genius.”

Sophie spoke up. “Usually, Rafe and I work together, if that’s okay. I do the set dressing and blocking, and he does the camera work. We work on editing together.”

“As far as voice overs,” Rafe added, “we’ve got some people we can use, but we’re also going to need some original stuff. If we hook you up with a sound editor, can you get the General to record the phrases you want him to say?”

Alex nodded. “Yeah, as long as it doesn’t take too much time.”

“Okay, no problem, our guy’s efficient.” He grinned. “Actually, our sound editor is our brother Brant. We work together a lot.”

“And you all can travel down to the capital to get the footage you need once we’ve got this set up?”

Rafe shot his sister a look, but said, “Yes, we can.”

“We’ll be covering your travel expenses,” Alex told him, “as well as paying you for your work, of course.”

Rafe’s face cleared. “Thanks. We’re really just starting out because producing art of any kind was almost impossible under King’s government. It’s really exciting to get a chance to do this.”

“Great to have you on board,” Alex said. “John and I are going down to the capital on business in a couple of days. I’ll call you as soon as we get back.”

“Okay, I look forward to it,” Rafe agreed. “One other thing …” he hesitated.

“What is it?”

“General Hamilton, would you consider doing some of the voice overs? You have a really good voice, but more important than that, a lot of people have heard you speak, and your voice is familiar to them, familiar in a positive way. I mean, there’s a reason they call you the ‘Voice of the Insurrection.’”

Alex flushed a little, half embarrassed, half pleased, while John grinned at him. “Sure,” he said finally, “if you think it will help.”

“It will,” Sophie put in. “People will recognize it, and that alone will bring attention to the ads.”

They shook hands and the Peales departed, obviously eager to get started on the job.

Alex looked at John. “I feel a hundred years old,” he said.

“Me too. By the way, did she have the _entire_ Preamble to the Constitution tattooed on her left thigh?”

“I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t looking at her thigh,” Alex lied.

Two days later, they and Eliza went to look at houses near the capital.

* * * * *

“It’s going to be so different,” Peggy said to Gil that night in bed.

He was playing with her hair. “Mm-hm.” He propped himself up on one elbow. “Are you worried that you’ll be lonely?”

“No,” she answered too quickly, then, “Maybe. It’s not really about being lonely, because I’ll have you and Katie and soon the new baby. It’s about missing my sisters and John. Alex and Herc too, of course, but I’ve never spent months on end away from my sisters. When they were away at college they came home at least once a month.”

“Eliza will only be three hours away,” he reminded her, “and if Angelica goes back to Columbia as she plans, it’s only two hours.”

“I know. Am I being childish about it?”

“What? Of course not. How is it childish to be sad that you’ll miss someone you love?” He kissed her gently.

“Sometimes I feel very young,” she said. “I’m realizing that I’m about to lead a very grown-up life, and it’s a little scary.”

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. _“Ma chérie, mon petit mouton,_ you literally made the transition from high school girl to adult in one day a few years ago. You missed out on so many of those milestones that you should have had – things like your Prom and graduation. You never even got to be properly courted by your future husband.”

That made her laugh. “Courted?”

“Is that not the right word?”

“Well, it’s a little old-fashioned.”

“I could court you now, if you like,” he suggested.

“I think we are way past the courting stage,” she told him, taking his hand and placing it on her belly.

He closed his eyes and just lay quietly. “Sometime soon I will do this, and I will feel him move,” he whispered.

“Mm-hm.”

“I wish …” he paused, looking at her face.

“What?”

“I was about to say that I wish you could have had all the things you missed, but God help me, I don’t. If I say that I wish a day less of my life could have been spent with you, I would be lying.”

“Whatever I may have missed,” she said, “and honestly, I don’t think it was much, nothing –- nothing could make me happier than this. Than us.” She kissed his shoulder just above the collarbone, then tilted her head back to see him clearly. “This is …”

“Tell me, _chérie._ ”

She shook her head a little. “There aren’t any words. You understand that. All I can say is that I love you, but that’s completely inadequate. The thought that I might never have met you –- I can’t even imagine. It’s like …” she hesitated. “You know _The Wizard of Oz?_ ”

That took him by surprise. “I’m sorry, what?”

“The old movie.”

 _“Le Magicien d’Oz, oui, je connais le film, mais_ …”

“You know how at the beginning, everything’s in black and white, and then when Dorothy gets to Oz, everything’s in color?”

He was smiling. “Yes.”

“That’s what it’s like,” she said. “It’s like everything before I knew you was in black and white, and then suddenly it changed. You made everything Technicolor.”

He kissed her. _“Tu m’éblouis, chérie.”_ She could hear the emotion in his voice. He held her against him, just held her, his face buried in her hair. She could feel his heart beating against hers as she breathed slowly, secure in his warmth and his strength. How absurd to think that she had missed anything that mattered.

“And you are mine forever,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be prepared for our squad to split up soon. They all have jobs to do, but don't be too sad, because they'll be back together many more times. If you haven't seen it yet, I posted a possible first chapter of a sort-of sequel to this fic, about Katie as an adult -- well, at least as a college student, so adultish, anyway. It's called "Someday, Someday," so check it out and let me know what you think.  
> I'm also going back through "Provoke Outrage" and renaming most of the chapters. I knew when I started giving them titles that I was doing a terrible job. Several chapters ago, I started using phrases from the show as chapter titles and I found that I liked that a lot better, so I'm putting in new titles for the first 47 chapters. Tedious, but an improvement.  
> Thanks to everyone for all the kudos and comments. They really keep me going, especially when I see that a reader has picked up on a point that I've worked hard to make without shoving it in your faces. Lots of love to all of you!


	59. Drop the Niceties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex, Eliza, and John go house hunting, Alex meets with the General, Gil finds himself in the newspaper, and Angelica has to deal with a couple of characters out of the past. Job offers are being made.

“I think,” John said, holding up a sketch, “it’s got to be the two townhouses in Alexandria.”

Alex nodded. He was sitting up in bed, Eliza’s head in his lap, John lying sideways across his knees. “I think you’re right,” he agreed. “What about you, _mi amada?”_ he asked Eliza, brushing a strand of hair back off her face.

“I don’t speak Spanish,” she reminded him. “I wish you’d stop getting John and me mixed up.”

Alex snickered, but bent down to kiss her thoroughly. “Mm, okay,” he said, “you’re Eliza.” He reached for John and pulled him in, and when that kiss was finally over, commented, “So you must be John. I hope I can keep that straight.”

“You’re never going to keep me straight,” John told him, laughing at his own joke.

Eliza giggled. “Let me see what I can do about that, John.”

John cooperated for a few minutes while Alex watched, enjoying the show. “You guys are pretty hot,” he said, sliding down so that John was in the middle. He pressed against him, brushing a trail of kisses along the back of his neck and pulling his shirt down to kiss his shoulder. Eliza turned and moved closer to John, lifting her leg over his hip and pulling up her skirt so that Alex could stroke the inside of her thigh.

“Ah, fuck,” John murmured, feeling Alex hard against him.

“Glad to,” Alex said, “but we’ve got to get rid of the clothes.”

That didn’t take long, and they were back in the same positions, Eliza kissing John, running her tongue along his bottom lip and rubbing up against him. Alex, behind him, had everything ready, and she knew the second Alex started to push in because she heard John’s breathing catch and saw his eyes go wide and unfocused. She pulled away from his mouth and kissed his neck and turned so that she could continue the line of kisses down his chest, past the scar of the bullet wound, past his navel until she could take him in her mouth, very gently, while Alex pressed in deeper.

John gasped and began to whimper as she slowly moved back and forth, her tongue and lips teasing him. John reached down and slid two fingers into her and began to circle them, pressing outward. She shuddered and her mouth tightened on him as Alex pushed deeper, finally coming hard and fast, and John fell apart, wailing, his hips jerking and trembling as they held him between them. It took a few minutes to come down, and Eliza was patient. Alex pulled back, and John whispered to her, “You’re in the middle now, baby girl,” and her breathing quickened because she knew what was coming. John took top and began kissing her mouth, while one hand went to her breasts, stroking and rolling her hard nipples between his thumb and finger. Alex took bottom, spreading her legs and starting by kissing the inside of her thighs, licking and sucking. Very slowly, he went closer and finally slipped one finger inside her. “Oh, so wet and slippery,” he murmured, moving his finger around.

John moved down to kiss and suck on her breasts, and she began pressing her hips up toward Alex. He smiled and slid in another finger and began scissoring them as widely as he could, letting her feel the stretch. As he added another finger, he opened her up with his tongue, and he could feel her quivering. His tongue circled softly as his fingers moved, and John sucked harder as he twisted his left hand in Alex’s hair. Then Alex began to flick his tongue back and forth and she came almost instantly, both their mouths on her as she exploded.

* * * * *

There were only a few print newspapers being published on a regular basis, so Peggy was a little surprised when Tony turned up with one clutched in his hand not long after breakfast. The expression on his face was somewhere between amusement and frustration.

“Where’s Gil?” he asked.

“Office, I think,” she said. “Why?”

Tony looked uncomfortable. “Oh, well,” he shrugged, “You might as well see this too.”

She followed him into the office where Gil was making notes on some paperwork that Herc had given him. He looked up and then frowned when he saw Tony’s face. “What is it?”

“I guess you haven’t seen this week’s Philadelphia _Clarion,_ ” Tony said, holding it out.

Gil unfolded it and started reading, Peggy looking over his shoulder. After a few minutes he looked up at Tony and said “How the hell …?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Tony told him.

The headline was _The Medical Miracle Worker of the Insurrection_. Under it was a photo of Gil and John, obviously taken within the past few weeks, talking together casually. The story was a dramatic, highly exaggerated account of Gil’s surgery on John when John had been shot on the armored car Mission. It made no mention of either Ben or Peggy and made it sound as though Gil had heroically performed extremely complicated surgery under the most primitive conditions imaginable. According to the article, the bullet had been lodged in John’s lung, rather than his ribs, and the surgery was done in an unheated cabin that didn’t even have running water.

Gil got up and started pacing, furious, hitting the rolled-up newspaper against his hand. _“Putain,”_ he muttered, _“c’est qui le connard qui a raconté ces bêtises?”_

Tony looked at Peggy for enlightenment.

“Who could have told them?” she translated briefly.

“Can you imagine when the admissions board at Penn sees this?” Gil asked angrily. “They would have good reason to revoke my admittance, that I am such an idiot, _que je suis vantard, menteur!”_

“Nobody’s going to think that,” Peggy told him.

 _“Et pourquoi pas?”_ he demanded, his voice rising. “For all they know, I have done this myself, told this story to make myself important…”

“What story?” Angelica asked from the doorway.

Gil threw the newspaper at her and kept pacing and swearing in two languages. She picked it up and read the article.

“Oh, shit,” she said.

“Yeah,” Tony agreed.

“Do you suppose somebody thought Gil might be pleased by this?” Angelica asked.

“Nobody who knows Gil even a little bit would think that,” Peggy said.

“Right, but … damn, who would know about this? Gil, you’ve never talked to anybody about this, have you?”

Gil stopped pacing long enough to glare at her. “Of course not! No, wait, that is not entirely true. When I did the admittance interview for Penn, they asked about medical procedures I had done during the Insurrection, and of course I told them, but only the medical information. Certainly I never mentioned John’s name or talked about the cabin. Also, I told them this was a procedure that Ben and I performed together, and that a transfusion was necessary. This … this … _merde”_ he waved his hand at the newspaper “is not even true.”

“Nobody knew the details except our two squads,” Tony insisted, “and none of us would ever …” He stopped suddenly and looked wildly from Gil to Peggy to Angelica. “Fuck,” he said. “Jamie Wood.”

“Oh, my God!” Peggy gasped. “It must be.”

“Whatever happened to her, anyway?” Angelica asked. “I mean, I know she was sent to headquarters with Charlie Lee, but I never heard any more than that.”

Tony shook his head. “I needed to get rid of her because she undermined morale with her defense of Lee.” He still said the name as if it made him sick. “I always thought she had a thing for him, stupid bitch. There wasn’t a charge they could try her on, though, so I don’t know whether they dismissed her or reassigned her.”

“We were short of people then,” Angelica reminded him, “and she hadn’t broken any regulations. I’ll bet she was reassigned. Can we find out? Maybe find out where she is?”

“Yeah, I think so. We should at least try to find her, see if Gil can talk to her about this mess.”

“Talk to her?” Gil asked sarcastically. “She makes me look like a fool in the newspaper, and you want me to talk to her?”

“It’s possible,” Peggy ventured cautiously, “that she thought this would be flattering – that you might be pleased by it. I know, I know,” she added hastily, as Gil opened his mouth, “but she doesn’t know you …”

_“Ça se voit!”_

“Some people would like this.”

“Some fools!”

“Okay,” Tony said, “I’ll call headquarters and see what I can find out. In the meantime, maybe we can get some information from the newspaper?” He looked at Angelica.

She nodded. “I’ll get in touch with them. Also, I think we should let Alex know.”

“Definitely,” Tony agreed, as he went out the door.

“Fuck!” Gil said one more time, throwing himself down in the chair.

Peggy kissed him lightly. “I’ll make some tea,” she told him. “It’ll be okay. Angelica’s going to call the newspaper.”

“Actually,” Angelica said, “I think I’m going to go to the newspaper office in person. It will be harder for them to put me off.”

“Are you taking your gun?” Gil asked hopefully.

* * * * *

It was the first time Alex had seen the General since the end of the Insurrection, and he looked like he’d been working nonstop. He was wearing camo fatigues with his stars and the green badge of the Second Insurrection, and his office reflected the same informality. The government was being run out of the old Senate Office Building. The General said nobody was working from either the White House or the Capitol Building until they had been put there by free elections.

“Congratulations!” the General said, clapping Alex on the back when he told him about his upcoming wedding. “One of the Schuyler girls? I never could keep them straight. Is Eliza the oldest?”

“The second,” Alex told him. “Angelica’s the oldest.”

“Of course, I remember now. And the little one married Lafayette, didn’t she? Damn, I wish Philip and Catherine could see them now. Philip used to talk about having all these daughters to walk down the aisle.” He looked away. Philip Schuyler had been a personal friend. After a minute, he asked about John and the Laurens kids, and the conversation resumed. They spent a few more minutes catching up on things, and then Alex began to talk about video ads to counter those being run by Ben Arnold.

The General ran a hand through his gray hair, which could have used a decent cut. He’ll have to pay attention to that, Alex thought.

“Honestly, Alex, do we have to do this? I’m busy.”

“Yes, sir, we really do,” Alex told him. “I’d like to believe that Ben Arnold presents no real competition, but we can’t take that chance. He’s a good speaker, he’s comfortable in the public eye, and he’s ambitious. I don’t believe he’s trustworthy. André Johns is an unknown quantity, but many people find him appealing.”

“God save me from blond pretty boys,” the General muttered. His own face was angular, with a prominent high-bridged nose, not at all unattractive, but nobody would ever call him pretty.

Alex smiled. “He can’t compete with you sir, and he can’t compete with Matt Lyon in terms of experience or competence, but he looks good on screen. That’s why we have to do this.”

The General nodded. “All right, you know more about it than I do.” He called in an assistant and they set up an early date for the Peale siblings to do their filming and sound recording. When that was done, he dismissed the assistant and said, “I have something to talk to you about.”

“What is it, sir?”

“Assuming I’m elected, I’m going to need a staff. There are people I’ve talked to, some I’m planning to talk to. Anything I say now is in confidence, of course.”

“Absolutely, sir.”

“Crazy Tony got ahead of me to run for Senate,” the General admitted. “He was definitely on my short list for Vice President. He’ll be an asset in the Senate, though. I’ve asked Frank Marion to be my Chief of Staff, and he’s agreed.”

“You couldn’t have chosen better,” Alex said. “I have nothing but respect for Frank, and I think anyone who has met him feels the same way.”

The General nodded. “He’s good at building a consensus with people. No drama, doesn’t get rattled, isn’t territorial. I think he’ll be excellent.” The General’s phone rang and he answered it, holding a finger up to ask Alex to be patient. The call was brief, and then he turned back to their conversation. “I hope that you will continue working on speechwriting for me as long as I’m in office – again, assuming that I get elected.”

“I would very much like to do that, sir.”

“Well, I’d like to make it a little more official then, and ask you to be my communications director.”

Alex couldn’t hold back the grin. “I’d be honored, sir,” he said.

* * * * *

The Philadelphia _Clarion_ office, such as it was, was located in a dicey area along the river, not far from where they’d burned down the paper warehouse. Angelica had talked to Alex before she left the house; things were going well for them, and they had made offers on two townhouses, one around the corner from the other. Alex had meetings with the General and Dr. Barron scheduled for today and tomorrow. Eliza was going to St. Denis University to talk about law school and John was making the rounds of public and private schools for the kids.

“He needs elementary, middle school and high school,” Alex had said, “so he’s got a full day.” He had agreed that she needed to visit the _Clarion_ office rather than try to handle the situation on the phone, and had given her the usual “Be careful” speech, which made her laugh. “We’re going to head back tomorrow afternoon around four or five,” he went on, “so I’ll see you tomorrow night. Love you.”

“Love you too,” she responded, with the tiny pang that that phrase always caused. Kind, trusting Eliza was the right wife for Alex, for sure, with sweet John to keep them grounded. It would work for them. She knew she and Alex would have made each other miserable. She could never have consented to share him, and the inevitable infidelities would have enraged her. Neither of them was good at compromise, and they would have burnt each other out. Sometimes, though, every once in a while, the thought crossed her mind – _what a bonfire it would have been._

She brushed the reverie off and parked the Acura on a cracked concrete pad next to the office. The front door, which said Philadelphia Clarion in what looked like new paint, was unlocked and she walked in. The room was small and ugly, with cheap old faux-wood paneling and a ratty carpet. There was a desk, unoccupied at the moment, facing the door, and two metal folding chairs stood against the wall. Angelica took a seat and waited.

After about five minutes, she coughed loudly a couple of times and got up to examine a few items on the wall. Someone had clipped and framed what seemed to be random articles. There was no accompanying explanation for why they were hanging there. She skimmed the stories, all sensationalized accounts of people and events in the Philadelphia area. The _Clarion_ seemed to favor attention-grabbing journalism, with little or no regard for fact-checking. Irritated, she rapped on the desk a couple of times, and finally a young woman appeared.

Apparently the _Clarion_ didn’t pay well enough for its employees to dress in anything other than jeans, tee shirts, and flip-flops. Still, Angelica thought, it wouldn’t cost anything for her to comb her hair.

“I didn’t know anybody was out here,” she said defensively.

“I’d like to speak to the editor,” she said.

"Your name, please," the girl said, not even making eye contact.

"Angelica Schuyler."

The girl looked up in annoyance, clearly thinking it was a joke. When she actually saw Angelica's face, her jaw literally dropped, and her mouth stayed open. “I’ll be right back,” she said. She went into whatever back room she had come from and returned almost immediately. “Come with me, please.”

Angelica followed her into a hall that was even grubbier than the front office. There was a faint smell of mildew in the air. The back room proved to be no larger than the front. It was fitted with two desks instead of one. A man, presumably the editor, was seated at one, facing his computer monitor. The other desk was unoccupied. The _Clarion_ was evidently produced with a staff of two, one of which now turned around and went back to the reception room.

The man at the desk looked up and grinned. “Well, Angelica Schuyler,” he said. “Long time no see.”

Angelica managed to control her face. “Sam Seabury. Why am I not surprised that you’re running this gossip rag?”

* * * * *

Peggy had gotten Gil to drink a cup of tea but was still working on talking him down when Herc came in with a pile of fabric and paint samples. She was grateful for the distraction.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” Herc said. “We focus first on what you need first – kitchen, bedrooms, bath. That way, you guys can move in even if we’re still finishing up. Also, I’m guessing you probably want the staff apartments done right away so you can start interviewing people.”

Gil nodded and got up to put the kettle back on. “Mr. Lansing has put me in touch with an agency that will help us with that.” He looked over at Peggy. _“Tu veux encore du thé, chérie?_ Herc, do you want tea?”

They both said yes, so he got out the teabags. Herc opened a large binder.

“Kitchen first,” he said, and showed them a sketch of a mostly white kitchen with natural wood floors and marble countertops.

“The hardwood floors are already there,” he said. “They’re in good condition, just need refinishing.”

“I like them,” Peggy said, “and I like the marble, but it’s a lot of white.”

“The countertops can be any color,” Herc told her. “That’s not actually marble; it’s quartz. It looks like marble, but it’s much easier to maintain.”

“I want to keep that,” she said.

Gil looked at the drawing. “What about painting the cabinets a different color?”

“Like what?” Peggy asked.

“Mm, maybe yellow?”

“No, I don’t think so. It’s not that I don’t like the white, it’s just that there’s so much white.”

“How about this,” Herc broke in, pointing. “I could make these cabinets here with glass doors, and then you could fill them with colorful objects to display – you know, things like Fiesta dinnerware?”

“What’s that?” Gil asked.

Herc sighed and pulled up pictures on his phone.

“Oh, I like that!” Peggy said. “I love the bright colors. We’re going to need dishes, so we might as well get these and then they’ll brighten up the kitchen too.”

“Sounds good to me,” Herc said, making a note. “If you want, I’ll work the kitchen décor around the Fiesta colors. You realize, don’t you, that you need every single thing to furnish a house?”

Gil nodded. “Get whatever we need.” He had given Herc a credit card to use for the renovation.

They drank some more tea while Herc showed them his ideas for the master bath, which would be traditional black and white with accents of peacock blue, the master bedroom, which used lighter shades of the blue with grays and creams, and Katie’s room, which would be, as requested, “purple and terkles.”

“Not a deep purple, though,” Herc told them. “I’m going with this.” He showed them a sample of a pale, almost silvery lavender.

“That’s beautiful,” Peggy said. “How are you going to work in the terkles, though?”

“You’ll see.”

* * * * *

“Gossip rag?” Sam Seabury repeated. “I beg your pardon. This may not be the _New York Times_ , but it is a legitimate newspaper.”

“Really? Then how come you published an article that was badly written, embarrassing, and about fifty percent fiction?”

“What do you mean?”

“That thing called _‘Medical Miracle Worker of the Insurrection’_ ,” she reminded him.

Seabury frowned. “The piece about Lafayette? What was wrong with it?”

Angelica rolled her eyes. Sam Seabury hadn’t developed better judgment over the last five or six years. “You mean aside from the quality of the writing just sucking? I don’t know who your source was, although I have an idea, but the article was garbage.”

“How do you know?” Seabury demanded.

“Well, number one, I was there during the surgery it describes, and number two, I just left Lafayette. You’re lucky he didn’t come with me because you’d be flat on the floor by now.”

“Oh, really?” He looked skeptical.

Angelic laughed. “Sam, you never knew Lafayette, but I’m pretty sure you haven’t forgotten the time Alex Hamilton beat the shit out of you. If I tell you Lafayette could take Alex down any day of the week, does that convey anything to you?”

Seabury swallowed noticeably and stood up. “Well, I’m sure nobody wants to deal with this misunderstanding through violence,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me what the problem was with the story?”

Angelica spoke slowly, as though to a not-very-bright child. “It was factually incorrect. The information was wrong. It didn’t happen that way. How many times do you want me to say it? In addition, Lafayette would never have given permission to publish the story if anybody had asked him – which, by the way, you might have considered doing. It’s not like you couldn’t find Alex Hamilton and John Laurens these days. Oh, and who snapped the unauthorized picture of John and Lafayette on the street?”

“They’re public figures,” Seabury said defensively. “I don’t need permission to publish articles or pictures that pertain to them.”

“Don’t you have some sort of journalistic responsibility to verify the accuracy of the articles, though?”

“What specifically was incorrect in the story?”

“The description of the injury, the description of the surgery, and the description of the place where the surgery took place. Everything in your article was exaggerated to make it sound like Lafayette performed some sort of superhuman feat. I’ll grant you he did a hell of a job and saved John’s life, but he didn’t do it alone, and he didn’t do it under the conditions you said he did.”

“He didn’t do it alone?”

“No. There were five of us.”

“Us?” Seabury asked a little nervously.

“Yeah. I was scrub nurse.”

“No shit?”

“Oh, for the love of God, Seabury, don’t be any more of an idiot than you have to be! You know we were all in the Movement, Alex and John and Lafayette and my sisters and me. Where did you think we’d disappeared to for the last five years? And what were you doing besides writing bad prose?”

“Well, I graduated,” he said, shifting uncomfortably, “but I couldn’t find a job. I came down here from New York and worked for a while doing PR writing.”

“Who for?” Angelica asked.

“Judge Shippen.”

“Holy fucking Christ.”

Seabury’s eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything.

“So why aren’t you working for Ben Arnold now?” she asked. “If you worked for Judge Shippen, you certainly had a foot in the door there.”

“I did for a while, but … well, it didn’t work out.”

Angelica looked him in the eye. “You might as well tell me.”

“He didn’t like me.”

“Seabury, as far as I know, nobody has ever liked you except Sadie Shippen.” She stopped, thinking. “Oh, wait, you were working for the Judge because Sadie put in a good word for you, right?”

Seabury nodded. “Then Sadie was killed, then the judge committed suicide, and it was like Ben Arnold wanted to clear out everybody who had ever known them. He fired us all.”

“I’m not surprised. He has his own plans. And seriously, Seabury, you’re not a good enough writer to make a living at it. You should find something else to do.”

“Well, thanks a lot.”

“Come on, you think you’re Hemingway? Or maybe Hamilton?”

Seabury flushed. “There aren’t many jobs,” he muttered.

“Actually, there are. There’s all kinds of stuff getting started again. Look around. You know as well as I do that this so-called newspaper isn’t going to make it. Before it goes under, though, print a full retraction of the ‘ _Medical Miracle_ ’ story.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll retract it.”

“Good. Now tell me who your source is.”

“Angelica, you know I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can. She’s not going to be in any danger if you give me her name.”

“How do I know that? You were threatening me a few minutes ago.”

Angelica rolled her eyes. “You didn’t even ask me how I knew your source was female.”

“What?”

“I said ‘she.’ You didn’t correct me.”

“Oh.” Seabury flushed again. “Okay, so I guess you know who it is. If I just say her initials are JW, is that enough?”

“Almost. I need to know where she is.” She put up her hand to stop him as he started to protest. “I just have to tell her not to sell stories about people who were in the Movement. We had a need-to-know policy that hasn’t been eliminated by the end of the insurrection. She could find herself in big trouble if she sells stories – I assume she sold this one?”

Seabury nodded. “There was nothing military in it,” he asserted virtuously. “I made sure of that.”

“Somebody else might not. I want to remind Jamie that she’s on very thin ice. She didn’t leave her squad under the best of circumstances. Where is she?”

Seabury put up a half-hearted argument for a few more minutes, but he finally gave Angelica Jamie’s address.

Angelica left Seabury’s office feeling almost sorry for him. He probably thought he was above most of the jobs that were available. Like a lot of Haves, he’d expected to go straight from college into a secure, well-paid job. He was probably going to vote for Ben Arnold

* * * * *

Alex, John, and Eliza were eating lunch when John’s phone rang. He looked at the screen and frowned.

“I have to take this,” he said. “It’s Ed Rutledge, the lawyer who handled my father’s business in Charleston.”

It was noisy in the restaurant, so he stepped outside for a few minutes. Eliza looked at Alex, knowing, because she knew him so well, that he was excited about something. He had practically been bouncing up and down after his meeting with the General yesterday. Whatever it was, though, was evidently need to know, and he would tell her when he could. Things were changing so fast that there were moments when she felt disoriented. After years of living with the whole squad, they’d be moving soon, to a pretty townhouse in Alexandra.

“I like the house a lot,” she said now.

“Me too,” Alex agreed. He had almost gotten to the point that he could contemplate John’s paying for the house without cringing. “More bathrooms than people. When’s the last time that happened?”

“Not a lot more,” she smiled. “Two people, two and a half baths.”

“Just us,” he said. “That’s going to be strange.”

“I’ll miss my sisters,” she told him.

“I know. We’re all going to have some adjusting to do. We’ll be busy, though, you with school, me with work.”

St. Denis University, like many colleges, had demonstrated some flexibility in admissions for veterans of the Movement. Provided she could test out of a couple of courses she hadn’t completed at Columbia, Eliza would start law school in January. They’d given her the books for the courses, and she’d already started studying.

“And we’ll be married,” she reminded him.

That brought a smile. “Yeah, I’m looking forward to that. I’ll be dancing with my wife at the Inaugural Ball in January.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about that! Won’t that be fun? I’ll need a gown.”

“And I might actually have to buy a tux.”

“Because you might be attending other formal functions like state dinners.”

He smiled again, but shook his head.

“Alex, I know the General talked to you about something yesterday that you’re really excited about, and I also know you can’t talk about it yet, but, whatever it is, congratulations.”

He laughed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She gave him her famous raised eyebrow, and they were both laughing when John came back in.

“What’s up?” Alex asked him.

“I need to do something with Laurens Enterprises,” John responded, looking like he’d rather not.

“I thought you didn’t have anything to do with Laurens Enterprises,” Alex said.

“I didn’t for years, but now that I’m the kids’ guardian and one of their trustees, I get included in the business stuff too.” He waved at the waitress and ordered another Coke.

“That stuff will kill you,” Alex advised.

“Says the guy who lives on coffee with ten sugars,” Eliza commented to nobody in particular.

“Anyway,” John said, “my dad really didn’t do a lot of hands-on stuff. He had managers who did the day-to-day work, and he collected the profits. We’ve done a lot to change that, with better salaries and working conditions and a profit-sharing plan, but now the guy who has been in charge for the last couple of years is moving to Arizona. His wife’s had an offer to teach at a university and they’re really excited about that opportunity. Can’t blame them.”

“So where does that leave you?” Alex asked.

“It leaves me trying to find an intelligent businessman who has good people skills, a serious work ethic, and who is looking for a long-term position that he has some say in shaping.”

“Is that verbatim what the attorney said?”

John laughed. “Pretty much. Of course, he'll be looking for somebody, but he thought that, with my experience in the Movement, there was a chance I'd know some smart guy who would be a good fit."

“And do you?” Alex asked, joking.

John took a gulp of his Coke. “I just might. I was thinking of Burr.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One by one, our people are finding their future paths. So far, Gil and Eliza will be going to school, Alex has a job, Herc has at least a start on his interior design business, John's putting together a portfolio of his work, and Burr might be getting a job offer. Where will they all be by the time that Inaugural Ball comes around?  
> Many thanks to everyone who's still following, and especially to those of you who have left kudos and comments. For some reason -- or no reason -- the last few chapters have been really difficult to write, with tons of deleting and rewriting. It's a part of writing that is expected, but it is no fun at all when it happens. It seemed to get better around the time Angelica was being sarcastic with Sam Seabury, so my thanks to her.  
> Thanks again. I always love hearing from you.


	60. One Last Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are cookies in the house. Gil and Peggy get some interesting information. People are moving to new places, and everyone has to figure out how to deal with that.

Angelica had made a pot of coffee because Tony and Jack had come over to listen to her report on what she had found out at the _Clarion_ office. There was even a box of cookies to open because the supplies in the stores were almost back to what they had been before King took over. Alex was going to be thrilled to find cookies in the house.

Neither Tony nor Jack knew who Sam Seabury was, so that part of the story went over their heads, but they were glad to hear that Angelica had paid a visit to Jamie Wood.

“She was reassigned to Baltimore,” Tony told them. “Not that Headquarters thought she was a great asset, but we were really short of people then.”

“Right,” Angelica said, taking a bite of her cookie. “Baltimore was probably the least active cell at the time, so it was kind of like where she’d do the least harm.”

Tony shook his head in disgust. “I couldn’t get past her having a thing for Charlie Lee.”

“So what did you tell her?” Jack asked.

“That if she ever sold or in any way released any information about anything that occurred in the Movement, I would personally hunt her down. I may have mentioned that I would bring you guys and Alex with me.”

“I take it that worked,” Tony laughed.

“Yeah, she whined and sniffled a little, but she got the message. I don’t know why she was ever even in the Movement. She didn’t seem to understand what it was about.”

“We got some of those,” Tony reminded her, stirring his coffee thoughtfully. “They thought it was going to be high adventure or that they’d be heroes that everybody looked up to. Then they found out that it was hiding out in the middle of nowhere and not having enough to eat, with no opportunity to show off. Charlie Lee was that type, too, really. He wanted excitement and praise without ever being in danger.”

Jack and Angelica both drank their coffee silently for a few minutes, looking back. It was okay that people had different motives for joining the Movement, but personal fame couldn’t be one of them.

“When will Alex be back?” Jack asked.

“Tonight, he told me,” Angelica responded. “Do you need him for something?”

Jack looked away for a minute, then back at her. “Yeah,” he said, “I want to be sure I have a chance to say goodbye to everybody.”

“What?”

“I’m going back to New Hampshire. Philly’s a great town, but I don’t want to stay here permanently, especially since things didn’t work out for Molly and me. New Hampshire’s where I grew up. Maybe I can do some good there.”

“Dammit, Jack, you’re going to be the first one to leave.” Her voice was a little unsteady.

Jack reached over and took her hand. “Hey, come on, you’re going back to Columbia yourself, aren’t you?”

She nodded. “Mm-hm, but not yet.”

“When?”

“Two weeks.”

He laughed. “Oh, wow, big difference.”

She laughed too, but choked on it. “Don’t you dare make me cry, Jack Sullivan.”

“You’re not crying,” he told her. “Must be allergies.”

“When are you leaving?” she asked.

“Three days.”

She sniffed loudly. “Damn you.”

He was still holding her hand, and he pulled her out of her chair for a hug. “New Hampshire’s not on the moon,” he told her. “Concord’s maybe four, five hours from New York. Come up for a weekend sometime.”

“Maybe I will,” she said, grabbing a napkin off the table to wipe her nose.

He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “No goodbyes until we have to.”

“Okay,” she agreed, and Jack left with Tony.

Peggy found her there five minutes later. She was on her third cookie by then.

“You okay, Ange?” Peggy asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Mm,” Angelica mumbled through cookie crumbs.

Peggy sat down across from her. “Sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

Angelica swallowed hard and drank some coffee. “Yes. Fine.” She sniffed hard. “Dammit.”

“Are you crying?” Peggy asked, alarmed.

“No.” She sniffed again. “Maybe.”

“What the hell …?”

“No, I’m okay, really. It’s just … Jack is going back to New Hampshire. He’ll come over before he goes to say goodbye to Alex and everybody, but … I guess I just wasn’t ready for people to start leaving.”

“You know Alex and Eliza and John are down in the capital looking for houses, right? And you’re going back to New York in two weeks?”

“Yeah, but we’re not leaving in three days!” Angelica said in such a childish tone that even she laughed.

Peggy got up and came around the table to give her big sister a hug. “It was bound to happen, Ange. Everything we did for years, we would say we were doing it so we could have our own lives. Now we’ve got those lives.”

“I know. I’m glad, really. You’re absolutely right; this is what we fought for.”

“But?”

“But I’m going to miss everybody so much.” Angelica stopped sniffing and just started flat-out crying.

Peggy put her arms around her, tears in her own eyes. They stood there like that for a couple of minutes until Gil walked in. He wasn’t alarmed because he knew in any real emergency Peggy would have yelled for him. He was just puzzled.

“So, is there any coffee left?” he asked cautiously.

“Jack is going back to New Hampshire,” Peggy told him, ignoring the coffee question.

“Ah, okay, I understand,” Gil responded, checking the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup.

“Everybody’s going to move away,” Angelica said, with a final sniff.

Gil sat down at the table and nodded, watching her face. “It’s what we all wanted,” he reminded her.

“I know.”

He smiled. “We’ve been together for a long time. Even before we were in the cabin, we saw each other every day.”

“A lot happened in the last five years,” she said. “We were college kids. Now we’re adults. It takes some getting used to.”

Gil was the oldest of all of them and had always been the most independent, growing up without parents, but with a secure childhood. By the time he started college, he was managing his own life and his own money. The Schuyler sisters, in contrast, had still been their parents’ children when King came into power. It was a bigger leap for them, especially for Angelica, who would be alone at Columbia.

“You’ll be fine,” he told her. “You’re the oldest, and the wittiest …”

“Hey!” Peggy interrupted.

“… although I love my wife more,” Gil finished smoothly, kissing Peggy, and they all laughed. “Seriously, Ange,” he added, “everything will be all right.”

“I know. You want a cookie?”

_“Volontiers.”_

Angelica gave him the box and went upstairs looking for Burr. A few minutes playing with Teddie always lifted her spirits.

Gil took a bite of a cookie and made a face. _“Ça sent la poussière.”_

Peggy took it away from him and tasted it herself. “It’s not that bad. Honestly, we go years without things like cookies, and now you complain because they’re not good enough? You are _so_ French!”

_“Oui, mais c’est fort attrayant, non?”_

She tried not to laugh and to duck away from his hand, but failed at both, and he pulled her in with his arm around her waist. _“Tu es d’accord?”_ he asked, holding her close.

 _“Tout à fait irrésistible,”_ she responded, “especially the smile.”

He kept smiling and put his hand on her belly. “How is the baby feeling today?”

“He’s fine,” she told him, then hesitated for a minute. “I might have felt him move this morning.”

Gil’s face lit up. “Really?”

She put her hand on his cheek. “I’m not sure. I’ve never been pregnant before, and it was just … I don’t know, something.”

He leaned down and kissed her belly, murmuring something to the baby, as he often did. She had asked him once what he said, and he had told her that it was between him and the baby.

“Next time you go to the doctor, we will find out if it’s a boy or a girl. I’m sure it’s a boy,” he said.

“I know you are. You won’t mind if it’s a girl, though, right?”

“Of course not, but it’s a boy.”

“And his name?”

“You know his name,” he smiled. “We picked it out a long time ago.”

She kissed him softly. “Yeah, we did.”

* * * * *

Angelica and the kids were still cleaning up the kitchen from dinner when Alex, Eliza and John got home. They walked in the kitchen door, and all four of the Laurens kids and Katie threw themselves at John. He pretended they had knocked him down, and the six of them ended up in a pile on the floor, shrieking, laughing, and tickling, with John on the bottom. He finally staggered to his feet, Katie under one arm, Polly under the other, and the rest of them hanging onto him.

“So didn’t anybody miss me?” Alex asked, only half-jokingly.

“Oh, we did, Uncle Alex,” Marcy told him, giving him a dutiful kiss. “We’re glad to see you back too.”

“I think Harry cracked my ribs,” John said, and Harry laughed.

“Is there any coffee?” Alex asked, but nobody was paying attention.

Eliza looked around. “Where’s Teddie?” The question was barely out of her mouth when Burr came in and handed the baby over. She looked at Eliza’s face and gave a huge toothless smile, waving her little hands excitedly.

“I’d really like some coffee,” Alex muttered, sounding just a bit grumpy.

Angelica took pity on him. “How many sugars?” she asked, getting out a mug.

“Six.”

“No, really.”

“Okay, fine, four. I thought we were done with rationed sugar.”

“It’s not the rationing,” Angelica reminded him. “It’s your health. I’m going to have to take some time to calculate how much sugar you consume in a day, and then I’ll ask Gil about it.”

Alex glared at her. “You are a pain in the ass.”

She handed him the ultra-sweet coffee. “Yes, I am, but it’s for your own good.”

He took a sip of the coffee and smiled. “I know. Thanks for looking out for me.”

John looked around. “Where are Gil and Peggy and Herc?”

“They had to go look at something at the house,” Angelica said. “They should be back soon. Oh, and Jack wants to see you.”

“What’s up?” Alex asked, his mood improving with the caffeine and sugar.

Angelica waved her hand vaguely. “He’ll tell you.”

Alex shrugged and Angelica put the box of cookies on the table for him. He grinned and grabbed three.

“I really like cookies,” he mumbled, his mouth full.

Angelica laughed, but she could feel her throat tighten. What was it going to be like not to see Alex every day? “No shit,” she told him now, pretending it didn’t matter.

Gil, Peggy, and Herc came in five minutes later, and Eliza immediately went into a conference with Peggy and Herc about interior design, still bouncing a happy Teddie in her arms. Burr and Gil got coffee and came to sit down with Alex.

“Those cookies are not good,” Gil told Alex.

“What are you talking about?” Alex asked him, scooping a couple more out of the box. “They’re great.”

Burr tried one thoughtfully. “I’m with Gil on this,” he said.

“You guys are crazy,” Alex pronounced. “Can I have the rest of that one if you’re not going to finish it?”

Burr handed it over.

“Did you find suitable houses?” Gil inquired.

“We did,” Alex nodded. “They’re in Alexandria, both townhouses. Ours is a little smaller than John’s, but newer. His is four stories, and the top story is going to be his studio.” He looked around for John, who had finally detached himself from the kids and was pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Hey, John, want a cookie before I eat them all?”

“Fuck, yeah,” John told him. “Don’t be a pig.” He sat down and helped himself to a cookie. They all watched him as he took a bite. “What?” he asked, then made a face and added, “These are awful.”

Gil and Burr exchanged triumphant looks, and Alex held out his hand. “If you don’t want that, I’ll eat it.”

“You are such a scavenger,” John told him.

“There’s nothing wrong with liking cookies,” Alex defended himself.

John shrugged and turned to Gil. “How’s the house coming?”

“Good. They’ve torn out the old kitchen and are working on the new one. Herc’s doing the kitchen and the master bedroom and bath first so we can move in as soon as possible.”

“When does he think that will be?”

“Another couple of weeks maybe.”

John nodded and took a breath. He looked from Gil to Alex and back again. “I’m going to have to move out in three days.”

Alex didn’t seem surprised. “You’ve decided on Stillwater Friends, then?”

“It’s the best choice,” John said. “It’s a great school with small classes and excellent teachers. All the kids will be on one campus, too.”

“A private school, then?” Gil inquired.

“Yeah, a Quaker school. I like their philosophy – kindness, respect, peace. I think that will be good for the kids.”

Gil thought of John running, laughing, from an explosion, blood streaming down his face, and about what he had learned of John’s abusive father. Maybe you have to understand violence to truly value peace. He looked at him now and smiled. “I think that sounds like a good decision,” he said. “Have you told the kids yet?’

John shook his head. “Tomorrow’s soon enough. It’s going to be hard for them to leave, Marcy especially, but I need to get them there in time to start school. As it is, we’re going to have to do a couple of days of crash-shopping to buy furniture and all the stuff the kids need for school. Thank God they’ll wear uniforms so I don’t have to worry about school clothes.”

Gil had a mental image of John and all four kids racing through stores grabbing everything from bed linens to crayons. He thought it would be a memorable experience for the salespeople.

Gil turned to Alex. “When are you and Eliza moving?”

“Maybe another month? I’m really not sure, and even after we move, I’ll be running back and forth working for both Tony and the General. That seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Do you have a job for after the election yet?” Gil asked.

“We’ll see,” Alex said, looking away, but he couldn’t hide a smile.

“Need to know?”

Alex just shrugged.

“Well, then, I’ll offer you hypothetical congratulations.”

“Thanks very much, hypothetically,” Alex responded.

* * * * *

John had been right about Marcy having a hard time adjusting to the idea of moving in just a couple of days. She had to go say goodbye to Becky and Sam Jenkins and all the other runners in the neighborhood, and she carried Teddie around with her almost every minute she was in the house. Peggy and Gil promised her that she could come up for a weekend as soon as they had a usable room for her at the house, and Eliza reassured her that she and Alex would be around the corner from her in just a few weeks, but no matter what anyone said, Marcy kept crying. She tried to smile through her tears, and she said, “I know,” over and over, but the tears didn’t stop. Finally, when she was alone upstairs with Peggy, she wailed, “Nobody understands!”

Peggy put her arms around her. “Sweetie, tell me. What don’t we understand?”

Marcy was crying so hard she could hardly get the words out. “Living here … with all of you … is …It’s the first time I’ve ever really felt safe. It’s the first place that’s been happy.”

Peggy remembered that first day after John brought the kids there, when they had been hungry, but afraid to come downstairs without permission. She silently cursed Henry Laurens and hugged his daughter tight.

“Listen to me,” she said. “You are always going to be safe. You have the best brother in the world, and you have a huge family now. You can come visit us whenever you want, and Alex and Eliza will be right around the corner from you. You’re going to see them all the time, and you’ll all be back up here for Thanksgiving and the wedding in just a couple of months. We’ll be bridesmaids together, you in your pretty green dress, and me in my gigantic yellow maternity gown.”

That made Marcy giggle a little, and Peggy kissed her forehead. “I know how brave you are,” Peggy whispered. “I haven’t forgotten that you wrote letters with us right before the Insurrection started. You knew what could happen. You promised you’d take care of Teddie, remember?”

Marcy nodded, biting her lip.

“If you could face all that, you can live in a different house and start a new school,” Peggy told her.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” Marcy said, her voice still shaky.

“I’m going to make sure I tell John that you can call me whenever you want,” Peggy promised.

“Really?”

“Of course really!”

“John says Polly and I could pick out whatever we want for our room,” she said. “He really means it, too. I asked him if I could have green walls and a purple carpet and an orange bedspread and he said …” she hesitated and couldn’t hold back a smile. “Well, he said yes.”

Peggy laughed. “He said, ‘Fuck, yeah,’ didn’t he?”

Marcy nodded again, and they both laughed.

“You’ll be fine, girl,” Peggy told her. “You’ll make tons of friends at your new school, and you’ll have all kinds of crazy fun with John. Promise to call me at least once a week, okay?”

“Okay, I promise.”

The kids really didn’t have that much to pack since they had come from Charleston with barely more than the clothes on their backs, but Peggy and Eliza helped them get everything together. While they were doing that, John took Burr aside into the office.

“What is it?” Burr asked, a little puzzled.

“I’m wondering if you’d be interested in a job,” John said.

Burr frowned. “What do you mean?”

John explained the situation at Laurens Enterprises. “I thought the position might be a good fit for you,” he finished.

“Are you serious?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t talk to you about it if I wasn’t.”

“It sounds great. It sounds like something I could do.” He looked at John somberly. “I need a job. I need to get my life on some sort of track, so that I can be the kind of father I want to be for Teddie.”

John nodded. “There are a couple of things about the job that might help with that. First, the house we lived in when I was a kid is still there, but nobody’s living in it. Ed Rutledge, the lawyer I told you about, has been keeping an eye on it, and you are welcome to live in it as long as you like. No, wait, hear me out,” he added as Burr started to speak. “The kids and I will never live there again. The place doesn’t have good memories for us. We can either sell it, or we can offer it as part of the compensation package for the job. Personally, I’d rather you live there because selling it will be a hassle, and I’ve got a ton of other stuff to do, but that’s up to you. The other thing is that Ana and Manuel Morales are still there, living in the apartment over the garage. They did more to raise me than my own parents ever did, and any good that’s in me is from them. I’ve talked to them, and Ana would be thrilled to take care of Teddie while you’re at work. Again, that’s up to you, no pressure either way. Bonus, though, is that Teddie will be fluent in Spanish.”

Burr gave his rare grin. “Quite a bonus.” He held out his hand. “John, I can’t tell you …”

“Is that a yes?”

Burr’s grin got wider. “Fuck, yeah,” he said.

* * * * *

They were making dinner into a sort of going-away party for John and the kids as well as Jack Sullivan. Herc was doing the cooking with Angelica’s help while John and Alex packed the trunk of the Acura that had seen them through quite a few memorable events. Gil and Peggy were at a doctor’s appointment and everybody was hoping that they’d find out if the baby was a boy or a girl.

“We can’t really count on finding out today,” Peggy had said. “Sometimes the baby is in the wrong position.”

“It’s a boy,” Gil had added, and Peggy had just rolled her eyes.

Herc did himself proud with two huge pans of lasagna, and he was putting them on the table when Gil and Peggy got home. Alex and John were right behind them, having followed them in from the driveway, with Alex bouncing up and down and tapping Peggy on the shoulder, asking, “So? Which is it? Come on, tell us.”

“Everybody at the same time,” Peggy insisted, brushing Alex’s hand off. “Get everybody in the kitchen.”

“Good, because dinner’s ready,” Herc told them.

Alex went to the foot of the stairs and yelled, “Everybody get down here right now so we can find out if I’m having a niece or a nephew!”

“It’s always about you, isn’t it, Alexander?” Gil murmured, and Alex fake-punched him.

Everybody clattered down the stairs as Jack came in, so the kitchen was full in less than a minute. Angelica and Eliza grabbed Peggy’s hands, and she said, “I’ll let Gil make the announcement.”

Gil stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t know why I even have to make this announcement,” he began.

“Just get to the point!” Alex yelled from across the room.

Gil grinned and continued, “Because as I’ve been telling you all along, it’s a boy.”

There were cheers and applause and hugs, and Eliza said, “Now I can put the blue trim on the sweater.”

“He’s going to be a lucky baby,” Peggy said, “being born into such a great family.”

“He’s going to be a lucky baby because he has such great parents,” Alex told them, completely serious. He managed to get an arm around each of them for a three-way hug.

“Hey, lasagna’s getting cold,” Herc reminded them, and they all found places to sit, crowding the chairs together. It was a good dinner, and it wasn’t until they were clearing the plates away that John said what they’d all been thinking.

“This is the last time for a while that we’re all going to be sitting around the same table having dinner together like this. I want you to know that no matter how hard things were, up in the cabin with rice and beans every night, or when people were shooting at us, or anything else, living with you guys was the best. I love you all, a lot.” He stopped to get his voice under control. “You saved my life. Literally, I mean, Gil and Peggy, but Alex, you too, you and Eliza, in Charleston, you saved my life in another way. I’ll always be grateful.” He swiped the back of his hand over his eyes.

Peggy reached out and grabbed his hand. “I love you, John. I always wanted a brother, and now I don’t just have one, I have the best one ever. And thank you for bringing your brothers and sisters here because I love them too.”

Everybody was getting emotional, and Marcy was sniffling.

“No crying!” Angelica said, standing up. “This is not the end of anything except living squashed into one house. We fought a war so that we could have the lives we wanted, and those lives are starting now. We’re not going to be living in the same place, but we’re all still family, and we all still love each other. Nothing will ever change that!”

Jack stood up and went to stand next to her. “Angelica’s absolutely right. I’d like to thank you guys for everything.” He looked around the table. “Herc, for some of the best bad Irish jokes ever. John, for telling me more about turtles than I ever wanted to know. Peggy and Gil, for setting an impossibly high standard of true love. Eliza, for just being so damned nice. Burr, for showing me what real courage is. Alex, for being a leader we can all look up to, even if you never shut up. Angelica, for putting me in my place whenever I needed it. Finally, you guys know I’m Irish, and you know the Irish have a song for everything, so I hope you can put up with my singing for a couple of minutes.” He smiled at Angelica, and sang in a surprisingly good tenor.

 _Oh, all the comrades that e'er I've had_  
_Are sorry for my going away,_  
_And all the sweethearts that e'er I've had_  
_Would wish me one more day to stay._  
_But since it falls unto my lot_  
_That I should rise and you should not,_  
_I'll gently rise, and I'll softly call_  
_Good night and joy be with you all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all knew the baby was a boy, didn't we?  
> The verse that Jack sings is from "The Parting Glass," a traditional Irish song that is worth listening to. I know having him sing was probably a little corny, but the song says his goodbyes better than I could.  
> The next chapter should get Gil, Peggy, and Katie into their big stone house and will probably be quite fluffy, but I think the elections will come at the end of the chapter, so some serious stuff too.  
> Thanks for still reading more than a quarter of a million words in (that is really hard to believe!) and for all the kudos and lovely comments. It's always wonderful to hear from you! I'm feeling more than a little sentimental after this chapter, so good night and joy be with you all. XOXOXO


	61. Good Laws Under a Free Government

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The squad finally breaks up. Elections are held.

The Peale kids, as Alex insisted on calling them, had showed up with their finished ads. Angelica and Tony were in the office to help review and evaluate them, but Alex was fretting because he wanted John’s input.

“Facetime him,” Angelica suggested.

“We can send him the videos,” Rafe said. “I’d like his opinion on them artistically.”

“That’s good,” Alex agreed. “I can’t really judge the visual impact.”

“Couldn’t Herc help with that?” Tony asked.

“He could if he was ever here,” Alex grumbled. “He’s at Gil and Peggy’s house all the time. He even slept there a couple of nights.”

“I guess that means it’s coming along,” Tony commented in an effort to be positive, but Alex just looked annoyed and huffed.

“You do know it needs to be done in time for your wedding, right?” Angelica reminded him.

Alex nodded, a little contrite, at least for him. “Good point.”

“The files are sent,” Brant Peale said. He was taller than Rafe, with shoulder-length brown hair in a ponytail, and he was dressed all in black.

Alex called John on Facetime. The kids would be in school, and Alex hoped he’d be at home where he could pay attention to the videos. John picked up right away and, from what Alex could tell, was sitting at his kitchen table surrounded by sketchbooks.

“Hey, you got a couple of minutes?” Alex asked.

“Sure, I’m just working on designs for the fourth floor. The architect’s coming tomorrow to see how many windows we can tear out without the roof falling in.”

“You’re taking windows out? I thought the whole idea was to have lots of light.”

“Yeah, so I want the little windows out and big windows in. Ideally, the whole north wall would be glass, but I doubt if we can do that. I’ll let you know as soon as I find out. Anyway, what are you guys up to?”

“The Peale kids are here with their ads, or at least the rough cuts. We want you to tell us if they’re artistically pleasing. They sent you the videos.”

“Okay, hang on, I’ll pull them up on my laptop, so I can watch them while we talk.”

Alex did the same thing, carefully watching each of the four ads. All were in color, but each one featured striking black-and-white sequences, some of the General at various moments, others of life under the King government.

“We thought that as much as possible, we should tie Ben Arnold to King,” Rafe said.

“Absolutely,” Alex agreed.

There was a black-and-white shot, a little grainy, of the General talking with Alex and TJ. All three of them were very serious, Alex looking grim, his arms crossed, TJ leaning forward with his hand on the General’s desk, the General himself alert and obviously concerned. The photo had been taken by someone standing a little behind TJ, and had been cropped so that the General’s face was the focus. The contrast had carefully been adjusted so that it was almost as if there was a light on the General’s face.

“Holy shit,” Alex said, “where did you get that?”

“We asked the General if he had any photos we might be able to use,” Sophie said. “He gave us this one and a couple more. We thought this was especially good, and we tweaked it a little to highlight his face.”

“It’s also helpful that both you and Jefferson are in the picture,” Rafe said. “You’re both well-known and popular, and it connects the General to you.”

“When was that one taken?” John asked.

Alex met his eyes on the screen. “Last winter,” he said. “Remember when I had to go away for a few days and couldn’t tell anybody where? It was so damned cold.”

“I remember,” John nodded, realizing when it had happened. “That’s the trip Frank Marion told me about, right?”

“Yeah,” Alex responded briefly.

“Speaking of General Marion,” Rafe said, “we have a couple of General Akhdir with him too.”

“Do you know who took the one with me in it?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, we had to find out for copyright reasons,” Rafe said. “She signed a release so that we could use it.” He opened another app to look.

“Never mind,” Alex told him. “If it was a she, it has to be Maddie James.”

“That’s the name.”

Alex looked at the picture a little longer. “I wonder if Maddie just took a picture in the moment or if she was thinking ahead to why it might be important to record the three of us together.”

“My guess is she was looking ahead,” Angelica said. “She may not be my favorite person, but there’s no denying she’s a genius.”

Two of the ads reviewed General Akhdir’s work in the past, from his time as President Washington’s Vice President, through his opposition to King and his leadership of the Movement. Vignettes of the General looking “leaderly,” as Sophie put it, were interspersed with footage of shabbily dressed citizens standing in line for food. There were pictures of storefronts designated for Haves, Hopes, or Deplos, showing clearly the differences in goods and service available to each group. Finally, there were a few brief interviews with people on the street, asking them about their memories of life under the King regime. The footage was carefully shot to make the pain on the faces visible, and Brant’s sound engineering made every voice distinct.

The other two videos focused on the future, showing the positive changes since the General had taken over the government. There was footage of hundreds of smiling and excited people standing in line to register to vote, a clear contrast to those in line for food in the first videos. There were also pictures of citizens enjoying everyday activities, of children playing happily in parks, and of Independence Hall open to visitors once again. These ads featured General Akhdir interacting with people in his office, still looking serious and concerned, but less intense. The last one closed with the General walking on the mall in the Capital and turning to face the White House. “I hope to be there someday soon, after the free elections are held,” they heard him say, “but I will not set foot in that house until my fellow citizens have sent me there.”

By the time they all finished watching the fourth video, almost everybody in the room was choked up, the Peale kids from nervousness, the others because they were so moved by the films.

Alex broke the silence. “Holy shit,” he said to Rafe Peale. “These are beyond amazing.”

“Really?” Rafe asked, grinning. “You think they’re good?”

“I think they’re incredible.”

Rafe turned to his brother and sister. Sophie was literally jumping up and down, her pink pigtails and green tutu bouncing.

John spoke up. “I told you the kid was an artistic genius.”

Alex was looking dazed. “I really thought Ben Arnold’s ad was good until I saw these.”

“These are just rough cuts,” Brant reminded him. “They’ll be more polished when we get done.”

“You go ahead and polish them all you want,” Alex said. “I can’t imagine that they need any work.”

“Yeah, they do,” John said. “The lighting of the kid on the swing …”

“Right, I know,” Sophie broke in. “We’re going to filter that to even it up.”

“That’s what I figured,” John agreed. “You guys know what you’re doing.”

“We have a couple ideas for at least one more ad,” Brant said tentatively. “We know our contract is just four, but if you’re interested …”

“I’m definitely interested,” Alex told him. “I’ll talk to some people and get back to you. In the meantime, thank you for this brilliant work.”

Tony looked at the Peales thoughtfully. “I don’t think Alex introduced me, but I’m Tony Wayne. I’m running for the Senate. Can we talk about a video ad?”

All three of them clustered around him. Brant started asking questions, while Sophie moved things around and Rafe snapped pictures from all angles.

“Um, excuse me, General Hamilton, Miss Schuyler? Could we get some pictures of you with General Wayne?” Sophie requested. “Just sit down and discuss something. We want this to look natural, so talk about something real, don’t just pretend.”

After a couple of blank minutes, Alex said, “Let's tell them why your friends call you Crazy Tony.”

* * * * *

The wreckage of the pink-and-gold master bath had mostly been cleared away, but Gil shoved a gilded towel bar aside with his foot to clear a path for them to enter the room.

“You can see,” Herc said, “now that we’ve got all that junk out, that it’s a big room. Here’s what I’m thinking.” He handed Gil his sketch pad, and Peggy leaned over to see.

The sketches showed the classic black and white tile that would be authentic to the period when the house was built, but with some of Herc’s original creative touches. He pointed to the sketch of the shower enclosure.

“Since you requested a double shower,” he said, “I thought it would be cool to do a mosaic design across the back, something geometric, sort of a Moroccan look?”

“Double shower?” Peggy inquired, her eyebrow up.

“I thought it would be convenient,” Gil responded, his eyes on the sketch, but the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Mm. I like the mosaic.”

“And then,” Herc went on, ignoring them, “We’d echo the mosaic design in stained glass for the window. That way we can have the soaking tub under the window and maintain privacy.”

“So you’d use the same colors in the mosaic and the window?” Peggy asked.

“Right. Our main accent color is peacock blue, but that’s a pretty intense color, so we can’t overdo it. We’ll use some lighter shades in the same color family, maybe a bit of a pale iridescent yellow as well.”

Gil nodded. “I like it.”

“Double vanities over here,” Herc added, gesturing, “and then a private toilet enclosure on the other side of the shower.”

“It looks amazing,” Peggy said, trying to picture it in the room that was now ankle-deep in broken pink tile and plaster dust.

“Now, as for storage,” Herc continued, leading them back out the door, “all this on the right will be closet space. Right here will be the master linen closet, then there will be two large wardrobe closets, one for each of you.” He showed them where the walls would divide the area into two closets.

“So my closet area is actually bigger than our bedroom is now?” Peggy asked, half-joking, half-incredulous.

“Yep.”

“What am I going to do with all that space?”

“Don’t worry,” Herc told her. “I’ll help you organize it.”

She just shook her head. It still seemed like a fairy tale.

Herc walked on past the closet area. “This will be your actual master bedroom.” He waved his hand at what seemed to Peggy to be an enormous area. “You can see that the original hardwood floors are still in good condition, so we’ll keep those. We want the room to be very comfortable and restful, so we’ll add a nice thick area rug.”

“Aubusson?” Gil asked.

Herc nodded, “I think so. We’ll pick up one of the pale aqua shades from the bathroom, combine it with gray and cream, maybe just a tiny bit of a soft rose?”

“The colors sound beautiful,” Peggy said. “What about the walls?”

Herc pulled out some paint samples. “Take a look at these.”

They all showed pale shades of a soft greenish blue, some leaning more toward blue, some more gray.

“They’re all very light,” Gil commented.

“Exactly. Pale colors are more restful. Remember that eventually you’re going to fill all the other bedrooms up with kids. You’ll need a place where you can really relax.”

“I like this one,” Peggy said, pointing.

“That’s the one we want,” Gil told Herc, smiling.

Herc made a note and led them to the far side of the room. “This section over here,” he told them, “will be your sitting room. Right now, there’s no division between this part and the bedroom, but I’d like to install a couple of square pillars with molding to match the doors. They’ll separate the space, and we’ll put a matching rug in here, some comfortable chairs, maybe a TV if you want. I thought I’d build in a bookcase there to the left of the window.”

“So when we come in from the hall, we come through the sitting room, then to the bedroom,” Peggy concluded.

“Right,” Herc told her. “It helps give you more privacy.” He and Gil exchanged looks, and Peggy blushed.

“It’s going to be so beautiful,” she said.

“Next thing,” Herc went on, “I want to show you the staff apartments.”

They went downstairs and through the kitchen, where Dave Coleman was supervising a crew installing cabinets. All the plumbing and electrical work was done, and the kitchen would be ready soon. They went on to the room that Mr. Lansing had referred to as the servants’ sitting room. A door on the far side of it led to an enclosed staircase with another door directly in front of them.

“That’s an outside door,” Herc told them, leading the way. “These stairs go up to a landing with access to both apartments. That way, your employees can go outside without having to come through the house, or they can come into the house from their apartments without having to go outside. Very practical.”

The two-bedroom apartment was about the same size as the cabin they had all lived it. It had needed updating but not total renovation, and it was now completed, with fresh paint, new appliances, and attractive furniture.

“This is so cute,” Peggy exclaimed, admiring the bright, cheerful kitchen.

Herc came as close to beaming proudly as was possible for him, and they crossed the landing to the smaller apartment. It too was fully equipped and beautifully decorated.

“I think we need to move the staff in now,” Gil said.

The agency Mr. Lansing had recommended had sent him a list of names, and they had interviewed various candidates over the past couple of weeks. None of them had really clicked until they had met Oumar and Fatou Babacar. They were immigrants from Senegal who had arrived long before King took over, and had become citizens after working hard for several years. They had opened and run a successful restaurant until King’s anti-immigrant laws revoked their citizenship and shut down their business. With no steady income, they had exhausted their savings and finally lost their home. They had spent the past six years scrambling to find work anywhere they could to support themselves and their teenage son Malik. Oumar had spent part of that time working for a landscaping company, so their combined skills seemed to make them a perfect choice. More than that, though, Peggy had been struck by their warmth and kindness and their interest in her and Gil’s story. In their second interview with the Babacars, they had reviewed all the practical considerations like specific responsibilities, salary, and benefits. During King’s administration, benefits like retirement plans and insurance had almost vanished. Peggy and Gil were committed to giving their employees security as well as a good salary. The Babacars were especially delighted that they would be living in a good school district, since Malik was about to enter tenth grade. They had moved several times over the past six years, and this would give him a chance to get caught up on everything before college.

Once they had definitely decided to hire the Babacars, they began interviewing prospective nannies. This search was a little harder. There weren’t many candidates who spoke French, and some of the young women didn’t like the idea of living this far out of the city, since there was little nightlife on weekends.

“Maybe we should just advertise for a French-speaking bookworm who is not interested in a social life,” Peggy said after they had interviewed another non-starter.

“There’s no reason why they should act as if they’d be stranded,” Gil said. “We’ll be paying them enough that they can have a car, and there is plenty of garage space.” In addition to the four garages for the main house, the staff apartments shared a double garage, and the Babacars had only one car.

“Yes, but when you mentioned that, she giggled and said something about not being able to drive home after a night out,” Peggy reminded him. “The last thing I want to have to deal with is a drunk nanny.”

Peggy was sure that she could manage two children without a nanny, especially with Fatou doing the cooking and housekeeping. Gil was equally adamant that she should have help, particularly because she would be occupied with a newborn while Katie would still need lots of attention, including adjusting to preschool and a new baby. Peggy had suggested that maybe they should just get someone part time when the agency sent them Delphine Aubert. She was younger than most of the other applicants, and had taken only a few college courses, but she was the oldest of a big family, and she and Katie immediately hit it off. Her family was from Québec, so her French was fluent, and she was just what they had been looking for.

Gil called the Babacars and Delphine right after visiting the apartments to tell them they could move in at any time. Oumar was going to get to work on the landscaping immediately, and Delphine wanted to spend some time with Katie, so they arranged for her to take Katie to the children’s programs at the library twice a week. Herc gave them their one-week notice to move in.

* * * * *

Molly was continuing to work in voter registration while all the pre-election anticipation was going on. At first, it had seemed as if no one could possibly defeat General Akhdir; as time went on, though, more people, influenced by the very persuasive campaign tactics of Ben Arnold, began to question the General’s leadership.

Molly and Tony came over to have dinner at Andy’s house, and Molly expressed her concerns.

“I can’t believe I’m hearing people say that the General shouldn’t have declared martial law,” she said. “How else was he supposed to put a government in place before elections?”

Alex was getting worried. “Maybe we should have scheduled the elections earlier,” he considered. “Maybe we should have taken advantage of his popularity right away.”

“But then there wouldn’t have been time to get everybody registered,” Angelica pointed out.

“I know. It was always a coin toss over whether waiting till November would make things better or worse, and in the end we decided that the symbolic value of November was the best choice. Now, though …”

“Come on, Alex, you can second-guess yourself all night,” Tony told him.

“Nobody really thinks that Ben Arnold has a chance, though, right?” Peggy asked. “Nobody wants to go back to King’s government.”

Alex and Burr exchanged glances. “Most of the people who were Haves under King will vote for Arnold,” Burr predicted.

“The Haves were a small minority,” Gil said. “That won’t be nearly enough to elect Arnold.”

“I know,” Molly agreed, “but there are other things …”

“What do you mean?” Alex asked.

“Well, you know how all of Arnold’s advertising is focused on the past? He’s making it sound like General Akhdir is too much of a change. Things need to move more slowly, so that people can adjust.”

“Yeah, right,” Herc muttered, “because we all need more time to move slowly away from prejudice and poverty.”

“I agree with you, but some of Arnold’s stuff is working,” Molly insisted.

“Like what?” Alex asked.

“Like I heard somebody say today that he didn’t like the General’s name. He thought it sounded too ‘foreign.’ He said maybe the General wasn’t really a citizen.”

“Oh, shit,” Alex said.

* * * * *

“We are _not_ doing another farewell dinner,” Angelica declared, putting away the breakfast dishes while Alex finished his fourth cup of coffee, “and everybody is forbidden to sing.”

Jack’s Irish farewell song had left her in tears for three days.

“You know that part in Jack’s song about ‘sweethearts,’” Alex reminded her. “Did that have any special meaning that maybe we weren’t all aware of?”

“Nope, absolutely not,” Angelica snapped, hardly sniffing at all. She slammed the cupboard door shut. “That’s ridiculous.”

Alex nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, good to know.”

“Fuck you, Alex,” she told him and left the kitchen.

Alex poured himself another cup of coffee.

“Angelica and Jack?” he asked Eliza later. They had taken over the room that Harry and James had used.

“I don’t think so,” Eliza responded. “Why?”

“She got pretty upset when I asked about it.”

Eliza looked at him in exasperation. “Why would you ask her about it?”

“Because I wanted to know.” He seemed surprised that it wasn’t obvious.

“You know,” Eliza said, “there are days when I understand why TJ always wants to punch you.”

“What?”

“Never mind.” She sighed and pulled his head down for a kiss. “We should plan the farewell dinner.”

“Angelica said there was to be no farewell dinner.”

“We’re going to do it anyway.”

He stared at her thoughtfully. “Is this one of those Schuyler sisters things that I will never understand no matter how hard I try?”

“Yes.”

Eliza and Peggy did most of the dinner planning. This really was the final farewell, because they would all be leaving the house for the last time in the morning. Alex and Eliza were moving into the townhouse in Alexandria. Burr and Teddie were traveling that far with them, then on the following weekend would be going to Charleston, accompanied by John and the Laurens kids. John had yielded to necessity and traded in the Acura on a minivan, so they would all drive down, get Burr settled, and spend some time with Ana and Manuel.

Gil, Peggy, and Katie were moving into their house, although there was still work going on. The worst of it was over, with the kitchen, bathrooms, and the master suite completely renovated. Katie’s room had just needed updating and painting, and Herc had promised her a surprise, so she was very excited to see it. Herc would be staying in one of the other bedrooms to continue supervising the rest of the work.

Angelica was the only one leaving on her own. She would be in New York early enough to pick up a couple of first-semester classes, and if all went well, she would graduate in the spring. If anyone asked, she had no problem with going to New York by herself. Of course she’d miss her sisters and everybody else, but she was fine, really. Perfectly fine.

It had been bad enough when John and the kids left, but now they were really scattering. Unlike Tony’s squad or most of the other cells in the Movement, they hadn’t come together by chance, but had been friends long before the insurrection was thought of. They had become a cell because they already had the relationships to make it work. Now it was really ending. Alex’s squad didn’t exist anymore.

Everything was packed. They were leaving Andy’s house as they had found it, and, in fact, Andy’s oldest son and his new wife would be moving in the following week. They had always known that this place, like the cabin, and like Alex and John’s apartment before that, was temporary. Now everyone except Herc and Angelica were moving into real homes where they would probably live for years.

Peggy found Eliza sitting by the front window wiping her eyes with a tissue. She came up behind her and put her arms around her.

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” she asked.

Eliza choked on a laugh. “No.”

“I’ve been telling myself that’s why I’ve been crying,” Peggy confessed. “What’s wrong with us?”

“I don’t know. Alex and I are moving into a very nice house, with John right around the corner. We’re getting married. I’m going to go to law school, and Alex and I are going to do important work. I’m getting everything we sacrificed and fought for – why am I sad?”

“Because when you’re a grown-up, everything’s complicated. I want to be an adult with my own home and family, and at the same time, I want to see my sisters every day.” She gave Eliza a hug and kissed her forehead. “You know what? In a year or so, when we’ve all adjusted to the changes, this will seem silly. We’re literally going to be close enough that we could take the train and have lunch together. In fact, we will do that.”

Eliza nodded. “You’re right. And we will all be at your house for every Thanksgiving, no matter what, starting this year. It’s going to be quite a Thanksgiving weekend.”

“Yes, it is!”

The not-a-farewell dinner, as Angelica kept calling it, went as well as could be expected. Peggy and Gil had already moved their things into the house, and Herc had taken his over there as well. Alex and Eliza would drop off Angelica at the train station when they left in the morning. Tony, Molly, Joe, Liz, and Ben came over to say goodbye. Their squad was breaking up too. Ben had found an apartment near Penn, and Liz and Joe were going back to their families. Molly had enjoyed her work in voter registration and was hoping that she might continue in a government job. Things would go better for her if she could get a recommendation from Senator Wayne after the elections, so she was waiting until then. The Peale kids had made an outstanding ad for Tony, and it looked like popular opinion was on his side, but he kept warning them not to get complacent.

In the morning, they all stood in the driveway for a few minutes after they’d thrown the last few things in the car. Finally, not surprisingly, it was Alex who spoke.

“You guys – you guys and John – you’ve been everything to me.” He hesitated and bit his lip. “You all know I had a rough time growing up, and when I met all of you, I’d never had a group of friends before. I just want to say, we’ll always be the squad, and, I promise that I’ll do everything I can to make you all proud.”

Angelica, who had sworn to herself and everybody else that she was _not_ going to cry, started to cry. Alex put his arm around her and hugged her, and then pulled Eliza in. Peggy picked up Katie and hugged both her big sisters. Herc slapped Alex on the shoulder and told him not to be a crybaby, but then had to wipe his own eyes.

Finally Gil grabbed Alex’s hand. _“C’est pas un adieu,”_ he said.

 _“Non, c’est qu’un au revoir,”_ Alex agreed.

Gil smiled and kissed him on both cheeks. _“Au revoir, mon frère.”_

* * * * *

Six weeks later, the first free elections in eight years were held. Anthony Wayne was elected to the Senate to represent the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. General Zain Akhdir won the Presidency by a significant but not overwhelming margin. There was still a lot of work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex's squad doesn't exist anymore. I cried a little, but they're all going on to good lives, right?  
> We have finally had our free elections, and the right people won.  
> We'll spend a little time with Peggy, Gil, and Katie in their new house, maybe visit Alex and Eliza, and then it will be time for Thanksgiving and the wedding. You are all invited to attend both. Casual dress for Thanksgiving, but we're wearing our very best formal clothes for the wedding.  
> Thank you all so much for reading, and for the kudos and your lovely comments. Love you all.


	62. Look at Where You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy, Gil and Katie settle into the new house. Everyone comes there for Thanksgiving. John brings pie ingredients and presents. Alex has an announcement. Gil says grace.

Herc got down on his knees in front of Katie. “What did you tell me you wanted in your room?” he asked.

“Purple and terkles!” Katie said, bouncing up and down.

Peggy and Gil stood behind her, almost as excited as she was. Herc had kept Katie’s room off limits so that it would be a surprise for all of them. Now he grinned at Katie and threw open the door. She ran in and started spinning around, trying to see everything.

The walls were, as promised, purple, or at least a pale lavender. The bedding and curtains were made of a pretty fabric scattered with violets and anemones. The big surprise, though, was the wall opposite the door, which was covered with custom wallpaper. The background was a delicate purple that looked like the evening sky, and set against it were winter birch trees in shades of white and silvery gray. It reminded Peggy so much of the woods by the cabin that she felt her throat get tight.

“Oh, Herc,” she murmured, “it’s so beautiful.”

“There’s trees!” Katie said.

Herc turned her toward the picture wall. “Go look,” he told her. “See what else you can find.”

Katie ran to the wall and started inspecting it closely. It took her a few minutes, and then she called out excitedly, “Terkles! There’s terkles hiding!”

Peggy and Gil went to examine the wall. Here and there among the trees, little turtles peeked out. They weren’t easy to find because, unlike real turtles, they were painted in colors that would camouflage them in the birch trees. Each one was an individual. Some of them had a bit of glittery sparkle on their shells, and one was wearing a tiny silver crown. Katie was beside herself trying to find them all, and Peggy started crying. Even Gil’s voice was constricted as he asked, “How in the world …?”

Herc shook his head. “It wasn’t me. It was John. I talked to him about ‘purple and turtles’ ideas, and he designed the custom wallpaper. We had it printed, and there it is, but it was all him. I just designed the room around his picture.”

“He’s a genius,” Gil said.

“Yeah.”

Peggy had picked Katie up because apparently some of the turtles could climb trees, and Katie was looking for them among the birch branches. Gil took her out of Peggy’s arms to lift her up higher. “She’s too heavy for you now,” he reminded Peggy gently.

“I’m fine.”

“This is my own room,” Katie said firmly.

“Yes it is,” Gil agreed.

“But sometimes Polly can come for a sleepover,” she reminded them.

“Of course she can,” Peggy agreed.

Peggy had been worried that Katie would be unhappy about sleeping in a room by herself, but she adapted quite easily. She was endlessly fascinated by the turtles on her wall, gave them all names, and made up stories about them. Delphine entered into the turtle stories with interest, and both she and Katie related them in English and French, to everyone’s delight.

The first weeks in the big stone house reminded Peggy in many ways of their time back in Gil’s apartment, when it was just the three of them. That period between the First and Second Insurrection had seemed relatively peaceful, and for the first month, they had had time to get to know one another. Now it seemed strange and almost dreamlike, living in their fairy-tale house with a ballroom, and having the details of housekeeping taken care of by a kind and competent staff. They began to do normal things like go shopping, but it was hard to get used to having so much money and not looking over her shoulder for fear of being arrested. She was still recognized sometimes, of course. Someone would say to her in a restaurant or on the street, “Aren’t you one of the Schuyler sisters?” But now it wasn’t frightening; they would ask for a picture or an autograph, and she would smile and comply. Gil had been right about the public’s interest in their lives. At least two home design magazines had requested interviews on the house renovation, and now Herc’s phone was ringing constantly with potential clients who usually started the conversation with, “Are you the Hercules Mulligan who designed the Lafayettes’ house?”

“Seriously?” Herc commented privately to Gil and Peggy. “How many guys named Hercules Mulligan do they think are employed in the interior design business?”

He was always gracious on the phone, though, and he already had clients lined up for months in advance. Dave Coleman, as project supervisor, continued to work with him, and it looked like they were both guaranteed successful careers. After Herc finished the house, he moved back to New York, where he not only found a nice apartment for himself, he was able to move his mother and siblings into a place that was much bigger than the tiny two-bedroom they had lived in for years. His clients were in the New York-New Jersey- Philadelphia area for the most part, but he kept his base in New York to be close to his family.

Peggy cried when he left, but found herself less upset than she had expected. At some point, although she could never pinpoint when, this life began to feel normal. It became normal that the coffee was already made when she got up, and that she, Gil, and Katie would all eat breakfast together. Then Delphine would take Katie to the half-day preschool they had found for her. She absolutely loved it, and Peggy was relieved to find that Katie was at least as well-prepared as the other children. Next year she would be able to start kindergarten on time. On Wednesday and Friday, Delphine would take Katie to the local library’s children’s programs.

Gil spent a lot of time studying to be sure he was ready for medical school by January, but he and Peggy had reserved Wednesday afternoons as time for just the two of them. Peggy had been more than a little surprised, and Gil had been delighted, to find that pregnancy hormones had kicked her sex drive into high gear. It wasn’t that Wednesday afternoons were the only times they made love but Wednesday afternoons became a time when they tried to be especially creative. Peggy loved Wednesdays, and she remembered a promise she had made some time ago.

“Give me fifteen minutes,” she whispered to Gil as she left to go upstairs. “I’ll be in the shower.”

His eyebrow went up, but he smiled. They had found the double shower to be quite enjoyable. This Wednesday, though, Peggy had a surprise for him. He walked into the bathroom to see his wife standing in the shower, soaking wet, wearing a thin white tee shirt that clung tightly to her. The water made it nearly transparent, and it was stretched across her full breasts, her nipples hard and straining against the flimsy fabric.

“Remember?” she said. “Remember the day the kids were playing in the sprinkler, and you wanted me to wear a white tee shirt?”

He remembered.

The shirt was just a little too small to cover her round belly, and was short enough to show the patch of dark curls below it. She tried to pull it down, bending forward for him so that her breasts pushed into the low neck of the shirt. When she stood back up, smiling, her long hair fell over her face, and she provocatively raised her arms to push it back, lifting her breasts and pulling the tee shirt up a little bit higher.

“Jesus, Peggy,” he gasped, throwing his clothes on the floor.

He grabbed her and twisted his hand in her hair, pulling her head back, and she laughed out loud against his mouth. They stood under the warm water as he ran his tongue over her lips, then between them, then over and around hers. She stood on tiptoe to lick the droplets of water off his mouth, and then he picked her up and she wrapped her legs around him. There was a bench inside the shower because Herc had thought of everything, and he sat down, holding her on his lap, her legs spread wide. She clasped her hands behind his head to anchor herself, and his hands went everywhere, holding her breasts, caressing them, squeezing them in a way that made her gasp, and then pinching her nipples where they stood erect trying to push through the tee shirt. He slid his right hand between her legs, rubbing his palm against her, and she pressed into it, making little whimpering noises. He loved the sounds she made, and he wanted more.

“Wait,” she whispered, looking into his eyes. The water ran down his face, his curls soaked now, showing his hair surprisingly long, almost to his shoulders. His face, his mouth, his hair, everything about him was so beautiful that it took her breath away. “Hold me so I don’t fall,” she told him, and he locked his hands behind her back. She pulled the tee shirt over her head and her breasts fell forward. He had her nipple in his mouth in seconds, sucking it, just letting his teeth hold it without biting. She pushed against him, then drew back. “Just hold me and watch,” she said and braced her feet against the tile wall on either side of him. He did as she told him and kept his eyes on her, his lovely girl, his wife, with her beautiful curls and her belly big with his child – _his child._ She raised herself up and began to slide down over him, slowly, a centimeter at a time, taking him in and letting him feel it. He wanted to move, but she put her hands on his shoulders and whispered, “Just watch.” She took her bottom lip between her teeth like a child concentrating, and she began to slide up and down on him, her feet braced, and his hands holding her securely. She kept her movements slow, lifting and then coming back down until he was fully inside her, and he could feel her rub against him. “Watch,” she told him one more time, and took her right hand off his shoulder. She leaned back, completely secure that he would hold her, and slipped her hand between her legs, while she kept moving rhythmically on him. She pressed two fingers against herself and began to circle them, and he could feel her getting tighter. The warm water cascaded over them as he watched her eyes go unfocused and heard her breathing quicken.

 _“Je t’adore, chérie,”_ he breathed, watching her hand go faster and faster. He nuzzled her neck, licked her earlobe, lost himself in her softness, found her mouth with his, and slid his tongue between her lips. She kissed him back, panting, and he looked down again at her hand on herself rubbing faster and harder. He imagined that it was his hand there, his thumb on the hard knot, pressing and circling. He couldn’t hold back any longer and matched his movements to hers. She whimpered again, and then began to make a different noise, a gasp that became a wail. _“Ma chérie, mon coeur,”_ he murmured, and he saw her face change in that instant as her body tensed and convulsed and tightened around him. Pulling her to him, he thrust up into her, lifting them both off the bench. They finished with her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck, his arms holding her to him, and she gasped and then giggled against his shoulder and said, “Don’t squash the baby!”

And at that moment, with her belly pressed tight against him, he felt his son kick.

* * * * *

They were expecting a lot of company for Thanksgiving and the wedding. John and the kids were the first to arrive late on Tuesday. Katie had been watching from her upstairs window, and when she saw the minivan, she ran for the stairs. John barely had time to hand the packages he was carrying to Peggy and Gil before Katie launched herself off the bottom step and into his arms, yelling, _“UncleJohnPollyMarcyJamesHarry!”_ The kids joined in and it was more or less a normal Laurens family greeting.

John gave Peggy a kiss as soon as he had disentangled himself, and said, “We’re making pies tomorrow, right?”

“Sure,” she agreed, a little startled. They were making pies? She looked at the assorted bags and boxes he had brought. “What is all this stuff?”

“Um, pie ingredients, more pie ingredients, pie pans in case you don’t have any, and some Thanksgiving presents. Can’t open those until everybody’s here. Oh, and one of them’s a wedding present.” He grinned and winked at her.

“Thanksgiving presents?” Gil asked. “We didn’t …”

“No, it’s not a thing,” John assured him. “I just … well, you’ll see. Hey, kids, take your stuff upstairs. Katie will show you your rooms, right, Katie-boo?”

Katie nodded and led the Laurens kids upstairs, talking a mile a minute to Polly. Peggy called after them, “Marcy, all the girls are in Katie’s room, and the boys are in the blue room across the hall, no matter what Katie tells you.” Marcy grinned and gave her a thumbs up from the stairs.

“I have messages,” John announced officially. “Burr couldn’t get away in time to come with us, so he’s taking the train as far as the Capital tonight, and then driving up with Alex and Eliza tomorrow. The President’s communications director was still working on the President’s Thanksgiving speech when I left.”

“I’m shocked,” Gil said drily.

“I know, right? It’ll be done in time, but there has to be a little drama.”

Peggy threw her arms around him again. “I’ve missed you so much. You and the kids.”

He kissed her forehead. “Yeah, I know, me too, Sis. It’s good to be here.”

“You haven’t seen the house all finished,” she reminded him.

“Right, when do I get the tour?”

“After dinner, maybe? Let’s at least get all these pie things into the kitchen, and the other packages wherever you want them.”

“Am I sleeping in the blue room with the boys?”

Peggy waved her arms vaguely. “We’re still working that out. We got a ton of sleeping bags and inflatable mattresses for all the kids. Did I tell you Herc is bringing his mom and all his brothers and sisters? I’m putting Veronica and Venus in the green bedroom because Venus is twenty-one now, and I thought they’d like a little peace and quiet. There are three more bedrooms, so I figured the grown-ups could work everything out. Burr should probably have a room for just him and Teddie, though, so if we give him the yellow room, that would leave the pink one for Alex and Eliza and the cream one for you and Herc, and oh, damn, where does that leave Angelica?”

“We need a bigger house,” Gil said fake-sadly.

“Angelica can sleep anywhere she wants,” John said. “She will anyway.”

They laughed and took the pie ingredients to the kitchen, where John was introduced to Fatou and Oumar. John looked around the kitchen and nodded approvingly. “Nice,” he said. “We will make the best pies ever tomorrow morning. The kids are all helping.”

“Mm,” Peggy commented.

John looked at her suspiciously. “Have you ever made a pie?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“If you can teach me to skip stones, I can teach you to make a pie,” he grinned.

* * * * *

They got a later start on the pies than they had planned because they sat and talked over coffee well into the morning. By the time they were getting out all the utensils and ingredients, Herc and his family had arrived, so there were more kids to assist in the pie-making. Fatou and Oumar had the day off to prepare for their own holiday dinner, but Peggy called and invited Malik to come bake pies with them, and there were so many people in the kitchen that John declared they needed to work in teams. He assigned himself, Peggy, Herc, and Veronica the title of “pie observers and supervisors,” and divided the kids into four teams: pumpkin, apple, blueberry and pecan. With the impetus of team competition, eight pies were baked, and then a major kitchen clean-up operation was also accomplished.

Alex, Eliza, and Burr arrived right after the clean-up was done, and everybody had to pass Teddie around and give her kisses and say how much she’d grown in just a few weeks. Angelica was the last to arrive, dragging a suitcase big enough for a month in Europe. “I need my things,” she said when Peggy questioned her.

“You know your dress for the wedding is here, right?” Peggy reminded her. Herc had brought all the gowns with him, and was doing the final fittings on Friday.

“Very funny,” Angelica responded. “I just – after years of hardly having anything, I find that I’m accumulating a lot of stuff. I’ll probably have to deal with it at some point, but not yet. Anyway, which room am I in so I can take it upstairs?”

John answered that, signaling Peggy over Angelica’s head. “You’re in the pretty cream room by the top of the stairs,” he said. “Herc and I didn’t like the curtains, so we’re camping with our brothers in the blue room.”

All the guys offered to help her with her suitcase, but she refused and they heard it bumping up the steps behind her.

Herc rolled his eyes. “We just refinished those stairs,” he muttered.

“Never mind,” Gil told him. “It will be fine. We should order pizza, right?”

That suggestion was met with enthusiasm by everyone, so Eliza took a quick survey and gave Gil a list of acceptable toppings. “No anchovies?” he sighed, and she gave him the eyebrow. “I’ll be back in about half an hour,” he added.

“No delivery?” Angelica asked, coming back into the room.

“It’s not New York City, you know,” he told her, grinning.

The older kids had gone off to play video games and Katie, after telling Alex, Eliza, and Burr all about her experience being on “Team Blueberry,” took the younger ones upstairs to “build something.”

“Fair warning,” Peggy said, tucking her feet up on the couch, “somebody is going to step on a Lego tonight.” John was on the floor in front of her, and she reached down and stroked his curls. “Seems like old times,” she murmured, her voice catching a little, and he turned to smile up at her. “Don’t you ever sit in chairs?” she asked him.

He shrugged. “Not much. I like to spread out. Besides, this way, you pet my hair, and I like it.”

She felt the emotion well up and spill over, and then John asked, “Hey, are you _crying?_ ”

“I’m pregnant,” she reminded him. “I can cry whenever I want. Anyway, happy tears, because we’re all together again, and I love you guys.”

“You must love us if you’re going to cook dinner for this mob tomorrow,” John responded.

“Wait, who said I was cooking?” she asked, sounding alarmed.

“Gil did,” John told her. “He said that you gave your cook the day off and you were going to do Thanksgiving dinner – you know, turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, green beans with that goopy stuff on them, all the traditional food.”

“Gil said that?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

John burst out laughing. “Yeah, but I had you going for a minute, didn’t I?”

“I was about to murder my husband.”

“So who is cooking?” Angelica wanted to know.

“Me and Herc,” John told her. “We’re the only ones who know how to cook.”

“That is true,” Alex agreed, looking askance at Eliza, who pretended not to see him. “I can make decent omelets, though.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next year, and we can have omelets for Thanksgiving dinner,” John said, and dodged a kick from Alex.

Gil brought the pizza in, and they decided to eat in the kitchen, so they called the kids in and crowded around the big work table, pulling chairs and stools up to the counters to make room. It was fun and relaxing, and nobody noticed John leaving the room until he came back with the three large packages he had brought with him.

“Okay, everybody shut up so I can make speeches,” he commanded. He picked up the smallest of the three and handed it to Burr. “This is for you. I wish I could have given it to you sooner.”

Burr looked surprised. “But why? I mean, thank you, but …”

“Just open it.”

Burr tore off the plain brown wrapping paper, and they could all see a wooden frame. They weren’t prepared for Burr’s reaction, though, as he stared at what they knew was a painting and started to sob. Eliza went to him quickly and put her arms around him, and then she too saw the picture. “Can I show them?” she asked, and Burr nodded.

It was a portrait of Desi, of course, beautiful Desi smiling out at them, wearing her white silk shirt and bright green ribbons woven into her braids, Desi as they remembered and loved her.

Burr struggled to talk. “How did you …?”

John shrugged. “You know, I’m always drawing. I drew pictures of everybody, even if you guys didn’t notice. I had a lot of sketches of Desi, and it was easy to do the painting.” He swiped the back of his hand across his eyes. “She was an amazing person, Burr.”

“Yeah, she was,” Burr said softly. “I was lucky to have had her for the time I did.” He reached out for John’s hand. “Thank you – you’ve done so much for me, the job, and now this. I’ll never be able to repay you.”

John shook his head. “I don’t want repayment. I just want you and Teddie to enjoy looking at her.”

“I promise you we will,” Burr said. Already, he couldn’t take his eyes off the picture.

“Okay, next,” John continued, moving on quickly. “This is technically a wedding present, but you guys can open it now.” He handed the next package to Alex and Eliza. They knew it was another painting. Alex and Eliza took off the paper together, and both of them gasped as they saw it. It was Alex who started to cry first, and then Eliza put her head on his shoulder and turned the painting around so everyone could see it.

Unlike the portrait of Desi, which was done in almost photographic realism, this one had swooping horizontal planes of gray and dark blurred edges. Clearly delineated, though, were Alex and Eliza, asleep on the old couch in the cabin, wrapped in one of the gray blankets. Alex’s long hair had fallen partly over his face, which was in profile. Eliza’s head was on his shoulder, and his arm was curled around her, his hand in her hair. There was lots of black and gray, so that it looked as if it had been painted at night. Eliza looked young and vulnerable, her bare shoulder not quite covered by the blanket. In Alex, with his dark stubble and ragged hair, you could see that quality that Angelica had called “dangerous.” At the same time, his hand tangled in Eliza’s hair was gentle and protective.

Gil was the first to find his voice. “My God, John, you are a genius.”

The more Peggy looked at it, the more she saw that the focal point of the painting was not the faces, as clear and true as they were, but Alex’s hand, and the tenderness that it symbolized. Almost every night, Gil did the same thing, running his fingers through her curls and falling asleep with his hand still in her hair. It made her feel safe and beloved, and she could see the same thing in this picture. She realized how generous it was of John to give Alex and Eliza this beautiful gift that showed their love so plainly, yet excluded himself. She reached out for him, and he took her hand. She pulled him close and whispered, “You are the kindest person I’ve ever known.”

He smiled and said, “I’m the luckiest person in the world.”

“We’re lucky to have you.”

“Don’t get all mushy, Sis, I have a housewarming present for you and Gil.”

Their package was the biggest, more square than rectangular. As they were taking the paper off, Gil turned to Herc. “Did you know about this? Is that why you left the space over the fireplace empty?”

“I might have had advance information,” Herc replied.

Every detail in the house was complete, but when Gil had asked him about something to go above the fireplace, Herc had said vaguely that he hadn’t found the right piece yet. Now they knew why.

It was a painting of Katie, standing on one of the flat rocks at the side of the lake, her hand forward as if she had just thrown a rock. She was laughing, and the sunlight sparkled on her curls and on the ripples in the lake. It was spring, with the trees behind her showing pale green and gold, and she was wearing a purple sweater. Gil went to John, threw his arms around him and buried his face in John’s neck. Peggy, with Angelica on one side and Eliza on the other, couldn’t speak through her tears.

John hugged Gil hard and whispered, “You’re crying all over my neck, tough guy.”

_“J'suis désolé, mon frère.”_

“I don’t speak French,” John reminded him.

Gil choked on something between a laugh and a sob and pulled back. Burr handed him a tissue, which he accepted gratefully. “John, it is so beautiful. It’s Katie herself.”

“Yeah,” John agreed, and Gil laughed again.

“Yeah? Is that all?”

John shrugged. “Well, yeah, it’s Katie, because that’s what I wanted it to be. I wanted to paint her happiness there at the lake.”

“Do you have any idea what a brilliant artist you are, that you can paint happiness on a canvas?”

“Yeah, I know. I just don’t see any point in talking about it all the time.” He looked around the kitchen for Katie and saw her off in the corner playing with Polly and James. “Hey, Katie-boo,” he said, “come over here and look at this.”

She came running and looked at the picture with astonishment. “It’s me!” she exclaimed. “It’s me when I threw rocks inna lake!”

“That’s right,” John told her. “Now look carefully and see if you can find something else in the picture.”

Peggy spotted it before Katie did, the little turtle peeking out from behind one of the rocks. She waited for Katie to find it. When she did, she giggled and said, “Look, Tatie! There’s a turtle!”

There was a stunned silence. “A what?” John asked her.

“A turtle,” Katie said clearly.

“Not a terkle?”

Katie shook her head. “No. That’s what I used to say when I was little.”

Peggy cried some more.

* * * * *

On Thanksgiving Day, Peggy was under orders from Gil and John to rest. John and Herc were cooking, with whatever help Gil could offer. Veronica, who was supervising, instituted a new rule that Peggy decided was worth adopting: “Big boys and girls help with the cooking, middle-sized boys and girls set the table, little boys and girls stay out of the way.” She arbitrarily decided that only Venus and Apollo, at twenty-one and eighteen respectively, were old enough to help with the cooking, so that left Diana, Damon, Marcy, Pandora and Harry to set the table, while James, Polly, and Katie went off to play upstairs. Malik Babacar came back to hang out, and Marcy shoved a pile of damask linen napkins at him, telling him, “Can you fold these and put one at every place. On the left, I think.”

Malik gave her a grin. “You forget my parents used to own a restaurant. I was folding napkins by the time I was Katie’s age.” With a few quick moves, he folded a napkin into an elaborate fan shape, leaving Marcy both impressed and speechless. “Is this good?” he asked. He shook the napkin out and started over, this time making a butterfly. “How about this?”

Marcy stared for a minute, then said, “You are totally in charge of napkins!”

“Hey, Mom!” Diana yelled into the kitchen. “Should we do place cards?”

“That would be nice,” Veronica told her.

Peggy, when asked, thought there might be some heavy white paper among Katie’s art supplies, and a little investigation found not only paper, but markers.

“How do we know where everybody’s supposed to sit?” Marcy asked.

Diana considered for a minute. “I think we should just decide. Hey, Damon,” she called to her twin brother, “we’re going to go make the place cards, so you’re in charge of finishing the table.”

Damon looked annoyed, but then Malik said, “No sweat. Remember, I’m an experienced restaurant worker.”

Marcy and Diana sat at Gil’s desk and neatly wrote all the names on the place cards they made, adding little drawings of pumpkins, autumn leaves, and turkeys. By the time they got back to the dining room, the boys and Pandora had finished setting the table. Herc had insisted that Peggy and Gil needed a set of formal china. “Trust me,” he had said, “you may not use it often, but you’ll be glad you have it.” When Peggy was overwhelmed by the hundreds of patterns available, he had gone to an antique shop in Philadelphia and had come back with a complete set of exquisitely decorated china from the 1930’s. The pattern, he explained, was Albany Blue, and so it would remind Peggy of her childhood. Now, the table looked gorgeous, with the blue of the china against the white tablecloth. Veronica sent everyone off to wash their hands and faces and comb their hair, so that they would “come to the table looking put together.” Malik gave a quick goodbye to go have dinner with his parents, but promised to be back the next day.

Alex had been on the phone for hours, but he finally turned it off at Eliza’s request, and they all gathered at the table, standing behind their chairs, Gil at the head and Peggy at the foot, as Marcy and Diana had decided.

“Before we start,” Alex said, “I have an announcement. I couldn’t tell you till now because I had to be sure it would all work out, but the General – sorry, the President – asked Eliza if he could walk her down the aisle since he was a friend of her dad’s. The security people had to work overtime making sure everything would be safe, but with some help from Father Mike and Roger Stayner and the Philly police, we just got the go-ahead. So, Gil and Peggy, I hope you don’t mind, but there will be extra security people at the reception, and you will be able to tell your grandchildren that the President was here to dance at the first event in your ballroom.”

Peggy and Gil looked at each other down the length of the table. _Everything I ever wanted,_ Peggy thought, _a husband I love beyond all measure, children, a wonderful extended family all together in my home, my big stone house, and now more good things than it ever occurred to me to want, the President himself walking my sister down the aisle and coming to celebrate her marriage at my house._ She blew Gil a kiss, and he smiled.

At the other end of the table, Alex turned to Gil. “You have to say grace,” he said quietly.

_“Pardon?”_

“You’re the head of the house. It’s Thanksgiving. You have to say grace.”

“Alexander …”

Alex looked at him affectionately. _“S’il te plait?”_

Gil sighed, but gave a tiny smile, and bowed his head.

 _“Apprends-moi, Seigneur, à dire merci…_  
_Merci pour le pain, le vent, la terre et l'eau._  
_Merci pour la musique et pour le silence._  
_Merci pour le miracle de chaque nouveau jour._  
_Merci pour les gestes et les mots de tendresse._  
_Merci pour les rires et les sourires._  
_Merci pour tout ce qui m'aide à vivre malgré les souffrances et les détresses._  
_Merci pour tous ceux que j'aime et qui m'aiment.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Albany Blue is a real china pattern by Royal Albert. If I was a millionaire living in a big stone house, I would definitely buy it.  
> The President is coming to the wedding! The reception is going to be in the ballroom! I just wish I could do a sound track with dance music, but you'll all have to hum your favorite songs.  
> You will see that there are only three more chapters to this story, so I close each one with mixed feelings now. I tell myself that we still have a wedding and a baby, and a little more, so no getting sentimental yet.  
> Thank you for all your kind words and kudos. I always love hearing from you.


	63. I Do, I Do, I Do!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the last-minute pre-wedding tasks are accomplished. The wedding goes on, although two of the attendants need assistance to walk down the aisle. TJ creates a problem at the reception. Marcy has an admirer. Alex passes on some information about TJ. Peggy finds out that Gil can dance. John teaches Gil a new expression in English.

Dress fittings were the first thing on the agenda on Friday morning so that Herc would have time to make any alterations if they were needed. Alex had been pushed out of the pink room early so that Herc could set up his sewing stuff and was currently in the kitchen, working on his third cup of coffee and complaining to anyone who would listen. It was John at the moment, but even John didn’t have infinite patience.

“So you had to get out of the bedroom by nine?” John repeated, rolling his eyes unsympathetically.

Alex nodded and sipped some more ultra-sweet coffee.

“And what else?”

“What do you mean, what else?”

“Well, other than having to get out of the bedroom by nine, which you have to admit isn’t exactly the crack of dawn, what awful things happened?” John asked.

Alex added another teaspoon of sugar to his coffee and concentrated on stirring it.

“Well,” he said sulkily and very quietly, “probably nothing.”

“So …?”

“Dammit, John, why are you always right?”

John burst out laughing. “I’m not, _mi amor,_ but I’m usually right about you and your moods.”

“Yeah.”

“So who do you need to apologize to, Eliza or Herc?”

“Um, probably both.”

“You should take them some coffee.”

Alex nodded. “Good idea.” He gulped down the rest of his own coffee and found a tray, then fixed a cup for Eliza and one for Herc. On the way to the stairs he passed a fresh flower arrangement on the table in the foyer. Carefully balancing the tray against the corner of the table with one hand, he pulled a white rose out of the vase and placed it on the tray, then pushed the other flowers around a little so that it wouldn’t be noticeable. He delivered the tray and was promptly forgiven, Eliza smiling at him as he gave her the rose and Herc pretending to still be mad but gratefully accepting the coffee.

He returned to the kitchen to find John still at the table, his sketchbook open and a pencil in his hand.

“What are you drawing now?” he asked, looking over John’s shoulder.

“View from the window.”

Alex hadn’t even noticed that there was a view from the window. Now he saw the sweep of the lawn and the line of trees, with a low stone wall along the side.

“How do you do that?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“See things that way?”

John looked up and smiled at him, then reached for him and pulled him in for a kiss. “There’s beauty everywhere, _mi amor,_ ” he whispered. “You just have to look.”

* * * * *

Eliza was getting her dress fitted first, of course, but just as Angelica fastened the back of her gown, Gil turned up with surprises.

“I thought you should have matching jewelry for tomorrow,” he announced.

“He likes jewelry shopping,” Peggy said over her shoulder to her sisters.

“I do,” Gil agreed, pulling six small boxes out of a pale blue shopping bag.

Katie and Polly each got a platinum and diamond hair clip in the shape of a bow. For Angelica, Peggy, and Marcy, there were pendants in the form of diamond flowers. Eliza’s was similar, but more elaborate, with a larger central flower and a smaller one on either side.

“Shit, this is serious jewelry,” Angelica said, staring at her necklace.

Gil got hugs and kisses from all of them, and Peggy warned Marcy to keep track of Polly’s hair clip, while she made sure Katie’s was secure in her curls.

“What did you get for the guys?” she asked Gil quietly, while they tried on their necklaces.

He smiled at her. “Cuff links,” he said.

“Platinum to match our necklaces?”

He nodded, still smiling.

“Diamonds?”

“ _Chérie,_ are you suggesting that I would encourage such vulgarity as diamond cuff links?”

“Oh, of course not, please forgive me.” She considered for a minute. “Monogrammed?”

_“Oui, bien sûr.”_

She gave him a quick kiss. “You have such excellent taste.”

Herc was calling for them to get their gowns on, so Gil left, and Herc checked the fit on each of them. Although the colors were different, the styles were all similar, a classic silhouette with a scoop neck and sleeveless crepe de chine bodice. The waist was accented with a band of delicate crystal beading above the full skirt of chiffon over crepe de chine. Eliza’s gown was white, of course, but the beading was in shades of pale blue, with a matching beaded headband to hold her veil. Peggy’s gown was the same design as the others, but with a raised waist, and her skirt, instead of just being full, had extra pleats to allow plenty of room for her baby bump.

Herc had found beautiful fabrics in the colors Eliza wanted, and in shades that coordinated perfectly. Angelica’s coral pink, Peggy’s champagne gold, and Marcy’s willow green looked wonderful side by side, and they were accented by the little flower girls’ delicate lilac. Katie and Polly would each carry a basket filled with pink and white rose petals, and everyone was hoping they would remember to scatter them as they walked up the aisle.

“Marcy, I need to check your hem,” Herc said. “Get your shoes on.” They all had shoes dyed to match their gowns except the little girls, who were wearing plain white.

“Oh, shoot!” Marcy said. “I left them downstairs! I was showing Diana last night, and I was practicing walking in them.” They were the first real heels that Marcy had ever worn.

“Go get them!” Herc told her in a tone that meant something like “Kids today!”

Barefoot, Marcy gathered up her full skirt and hurried out the door. She was halfway down the stairs, concentrating on not stumbling, when she heard someone say, “Wow!”

She stopped, startled, dropping her skirt and blushing furiously as she saw Malik standing at the foot of the stairs staring at her. “Hi,” she muttered, embarrassed and feeling like an idiot for running down the stairs in her gown. “I … um … I have to get my shoes.” She fumbled to pick up the long skirt again so she wouldn’t trip over it.

“Are they glass slippers?” Malik inquired.

“What?” Marcy asked, frowning, and then, “Oh, my God, Malik!” She turned, if possible, even deeper red.

“You are so beautiful,” he continued.

“Stop!” Marcy pleaded, hiding her face in her hands and dropping the skirt again.

“Okay, of course. Sorry. Can I help with anything?” he looked at her skirt, which she was trying to gather up.

“Could you go get my shoes?” Marcy asked in a small voice, feeling that if she tried to take another step she’d trip over her gown and go down the staircase head over heels. “I think they’re over by the fireplace. They’re green, like the dress.”

“Sure.” He went in search of the shoes, and she stood, frozen in place. Malik thought she was beautiful. And what he said about glass slippers … it was nice. It made her stomach feel kind of funny, but not in a bad way, really.

Malik came back with the shoes. “Do you want me to carry them up for you?” he asked. “That way, you can carry your skirt.”

“Mm-hm,” Marcy murmured, not making eye contact.

He followed her, and neither of them said anything else until they got to the door of the pink room. She dropped her skirt with relief, and Malik handed her the shoes. “Listen,” he said, “I didn’t mean to embarrass you or anything. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” she told him. “It was nice of you.” She finally looked at him. He was smiling a little anxiously. “Thank you,” she added, although even she wasn’t sure if it was for the compliments or for fetching her shoes.

“You’re welcome,” he responded politely, and turned to go. Halfway down the hall, he turned around and called, “I meant it!” Then he ran down the stairs.

Marcy blinked and went into the room to get her hem pinned. While Herc was on his knees pinning, she waved Peggy over. “When we’re done here, can I talk to you?”

* * * * *

“He said what?” Eliza asked, her eyebrow up.

“Asked her if the shoes were glass slippers,” Peggy told her.

“How old is this boy?” Angelica wanted to know.

“Fifteen.”

“Sounds like he’s quite an operator already,” Angelica said.

Peggy nodded thoughtfully. “I bet Gil was exactly like that when he was fifteen.”

“So is that a recommendation or a warning about Malik?” Eliza asked.

“I’m not sure. I think maybe I should talk to Gil about him. Or John. Do you think I should tell John?”

Eliza and Angelica looked at each other, and Eliza got up to pour more tea.

“John’s not overprotective,” she offered cautiously, “but still …”

“John doesn’t get dramatic about things,” Peggy said.

“No,” Angelica agreed, “but Marcy is his little sister.”

“I’m going to talk to Gil first,” Peggy decided.

She did that about an hour later, while she was lying down for half an hour before it was time to get dressed for the wedding.

“So what do you think?” she asked.

Gil sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand, smiling. “What did Marcy think?” he asked.

“She was embarrassed,” Peggy told him.

“Did what he said make her feel uncomfortable? Did she feel like he was crossing a boundary?”

Peggy thought back over what Marcy had told her, remembering Marcy’s face as she talked about Malik.

“No, it wasn’t that. In fact, she told me she liked what he said – and really, it was very sweet. Not many fifteen-year-old boys would come up with that sort of compliment.”

“Indeed.”

“I told Angelica and Eliza that you were probably like that when you were fifteen.” She watched his face as he thought for a few minutes and then laughed.

“I might have been,” he admitted.

“And look how well you’ve turned out.”

“Mm. Has it occurred to you that we should just stay out of this?”

“Well, no. I mean, Marcy brought it up to me.”

“What was she asking you, really?”

Peggy smiled. “She wanted to know how she should act around him. I told her to just be herself.”

“Excellent advice.”

“Thank you. Do you think I should tell John?”

“Oh, yes.”

“I thought you’d say that.”

There wasn’t time for a private word with John before they had to leave for the church, so she made a mental note to catch him at the reception. The extra security people had already arrived and were directing cars in and out of the driveway. John had reserved limos, with one carrying Alex, Eliza, Angelica and himself, and the other one with Gil, Peggy, Burr, Marcy, Herc, Katie and Polly. Venus was driving the rest of the Mulligan family to the church in John’s minivan. Teddie was staying home from the ceremony in the care of Delphine, and the Babacars were supervising the caterers and the band in the ballroom. Everything seemed to be going according to plan.

St. Cecilia’s wasn’t a big church or an elaborate one, but it seemed like the right place for Alex and Eliza to get married. They were all comfortable with Father Mike, who was at least as excited as the groom. He had a few words with Alex and John alone before the ceremony, and both of them managed to give appropriate answers to his questions. Gil, Burr, and Herc acted as ushers, seating people like the Jenkins family from the neighborhood and those like Frank Marion and TJ who had come a long distance for the wedding and whose faces were already familiar from the news. Everyone had expected that curious neighbors and citizens might show up to watch General Hamilton, Colonel Laurens and the Schuyler sisters arrive; nobody was prepared for the crowd of hundreds standing outside the church. Roger Stayner made a few quick calls, and extra police were dispatched, bringing portable barricades with them. The spectators grumbled a little at being moved back, but they cooperated. Some of them had heard a rumor that the new President himself would be at the wedding, and they peppered Roger and the others with questions, but got no answers. The questions stopped when the Presidential motorcade pulled up, and cheers rose as the President and his pretty wife stepped out of his vehicle, surrounded by security officers. He stopped to wave and smile at the crowd as hundreds snapped pictures of him, and then he was greeted by a beaming Father Mike, who took him to the small room where Eliza and her attendants were waiting.

Peggy was the first one to walk down the aisle, balancing carefully on her new heels, holding her bouquet of pink, yellow, and white roses. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Becky Jenkins smiling, and Annie, and then on the other side, TJ and Maddie. Quickly, though, her eyes went to Gil, tall and handsome, standing at the front next to Burr. _It might have been nice,_ she thought, _to walk down a church aisle to him like this, all in white, with him standing where Alex is now._ _Look how long Alex and Eliza had to wait to do it, though._ No, their own unorthodox wedding had suited them better. The Movement had taught them all not to waste time on what might have been. She took her place at the front of the church and watched Marcy walk in, Malik had been right. She really was beautiful. Only the faintest trembling of her flowers betrayed what Peggy knew was an agony of nervousness. Marcy had had to grow up so fast, and now they all wanted her to be a kid again. Maybe they needed to think about that.

There was a long pause after Marcy stepped up next to her, and Peggy tried to see to the back of the church. Katie and Polly were supposed to be next with their little baskets of petals. She could just see Angelica if she stood on tiptoe, and then Angelica stooped down. She looked across at Gil, and saw Herc leave his place and hurry back to the door. A minute later, he was walking down the aisle, Katie in one arm, Polly in the other, both of them clutching their baskets and smiling rather watery smiles. As they arrived at the front of the church, Herc put the little girls down. They ran to Peggy and Marcy, and Herc, with a shrug and a broad smile, threw a handful of rose petals onto the carpet before he rejoined the other guys.

Angelica was the last attendant in, stunningly beautiful, her eyes straight ahead. Peggy had never quite figured out the relationship between Angelica and Alex, if there even was one, or had been one, or might have been one. She did know, though, that her big sister had moments of real loneliness, and she hoped fervently that this happy occasion didn’t make them worse. Angelica stood next to Marcy, and there was a breathless moment before the organ music swelled. She couldn’t see Eliza yet, so she looked at Alex, and everything he felt was on his face.

The President, tall and dignified, came forward with Eliza, and they stood in front of Father Mike. When the priest got to the part about “Who gives this woman to be married?” President Akhdir said, “Those who love her,” and stepped back to sit in the front row beside his wife Cathie. Peggy’s eyes met Gil’s across the church as Alex took Eliza’s hand, and Father Mike talked them through the promises. She smiled as they repeated their vows, both of them declaring “I do!” clearly. As Gil had said that day at the lake, it’s the promise that matters. It seemed like only a few minutes until Father Mike pronounced Alex and Eliza husband and wife, and Alex, showing off, dipped Eliza for a photo-worthy kiss. Then bells were ringing, the organ was playing the joyous recessional, and they all filed out. Peggy was glad she finally got to stand with her husband in the receiving line. Veronica and Venus took charge of Polly and Katie, who had had quite enough of the whole thing. “There was too many peoples and I couldn’t see you or Tonton,” Katie had told her as explanation for her reluctance to walk down the aisle. She wanted her basket back, though.

Scores of people came through the receiving line; most of them Peggy knew or at least knew of. All of Tony’s squad was there, even Jack, who had driven down from New Hampshire for the occasion, and Hugh Mackey, who had been so badly wounded the night Desi was killed, still walking with a bad limp that would probably plague him for life. She finally got to meet Frank Marion, who, it seemed, was John’s personal hero, and Ethan Allen, who had run the Movement in Boston. TJ and Maddie were there, Maddie in a ruffly little dress that made her look about twelve, as was Dr. Barron, chatting in French with Alex and Gil. She was eager to get back to the house to relax and talk to everyone. And to sit down. She really needed to sit down. She looked up at Gil. “ _Chéri,_ do you think you could find me a chair?”

Gil was immediately all concern and left the receiving line in search of something she could sit on. Peggy was never sure where he found the rather heavy carved chair with the velvet seat, but she was thankful to sink into it.

 _“Ça va, chérie?”_ he asked. “ _Tu n’es pas trop fatiguée?”_

 _“Non, ça va,”_ she told him. _“Un petit peu mal au dos, c’est tout.”_

He frowned. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m okay, really. I’m pregnant, you know, so I get tired, and my back hurts sometimes.”

His mouth twitched a little, “You’re pregnant, really?” he leaned down close and whispered in her ear, “Who did that?”

She started laughing and blushed, and Burr, on her other side, looked a little worried. “I’m fine,” she told him. “My crazy husband is making me laugh.”

When all the guests had finally left the church, they posed for a few pictures, then thanked Father Mike and got back in the comfortable limos for the ride home.

“I need my nap,” Peggy said, her head on Gil’s shoulder.

“Nap? How can you even think about a nap?” Marcy asked. She was still almost vibrating with excitement.

“Pregnant ladies need rest,” Peggy reminded her, and Burr’s eyes met hers over Marcy’s head. She reached behind Marcy and squeezed his hand.

“She would have loved this,” Burr said wistfully.

“Yeah. I bet she would have liked the ballroom.”

Burr’s smile widened to a grin. “Oh, man, that girl could tear up the dance floor!”

“I knew it!” Peggy declared. “You could just tell.”

Burr nodded. “Good memories. Good memories and Teddie keep me going.”

Once they were home, Gil ordered Peggy to do nothing except sit on one of the nice comfortable window seats for at least an hour. The ballroom looked beautiful, with the soft rose velvet cushions and the leaf-green Art Nouveau wallpaper. The light from the late-afternoon sun was already starting to stream in through the stained-glass window at the west end of the room, scattering colored light over everything. Peggy was happy to sit quietly, and Gil brought her a plate from the buffet with all her favorite things on it. Alex and Eliza had sensibly decided to let their guests eat before the dancing started. The buffet had a delicious selection, and there were small tables and chairs set up all over the ballroom so everyone could sit where they wanted. Gil pulled a table over in front of the window seat so that he could join Peggy, and Marcy sat with them. Peggy scanned the room for Malik Babacar, but didn’t see him. Fatou was in charge of the reception, so she might have found some work for him to do. She wasn’t worried, but she saw Marcy looking around several times.

Gil had gone to get Peggy some more lemonade when TJ and Maddie stopped by the table. Peggy introduced them to Marcy who smiled politely and shook hands with both of them. She didn’t seem to recognize their names, which was just as well.

Gil returned in a few minutes and said hello to TJ. They got along better than TJ and Alex did, but Gil was less than enthusiastic to have to make conversation with the Virginian.

“So you and your lovely wife are expecting,” TJ pronounced, stating the obvious.

“Indeed,” Gil responded politely.

“When is the baby due?” Maddie asked quietly with a sniffle.

“January,” Peggy told her.

Maddie just smiled and nodded.

“I see you’re waiting on her,” TJ remarked to Gil with a knowing grin.

 _“Pardon?”_ Gil asked, his eyebrow up.

“Bringing her a plate, getting her another drink. She’s a lucky girl.”

 _Oh, shit,_ Peggy thought. Had TJ had too much to drink already?

Gil said nothing, staring out the window as though deeply interested in one of the trees.

TJ, impervious as ever to signals, turned to Peggy. “Is the Marquis doing a good job of spoiling his pretty little Marquise?”

Peggy grabbed Marcy’s hand under the table and squeezed it once. Marcy looked up at TJ and said, “’Scuse me” in her best polite-child voice, and left the table quickly, as Peggy turned to TJ and said, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I just asked if the Marquis was treating you well,” TJ grinned, his Virginia accent more pronounced than usual. He had definitely been drinking.

“We don’t use the title,” Peggy told him coolly. Gil was still staring out the window, but Peggy knew that look on his face.

“I don’t see why not,” TJ commented. Nobody answered.

“Maddie, these people don’t want to talk to me,” TJ said.

“Maybe we should go look for Angelica,” Maddie suggested sweetly.

Yes, please, Peggy begged silently. Go look for Angelica because in about another ten seconds, Gil is going to toss you through that window.

TJ was getting irritated. He switched to the fluent French he had learned in Paris. “ _Et alors, Monsieur le Marquis, pourquoi tu ne me réponds pas? Tu te trouves trop important de me parler?”_

Gil turned to face him. “ _Non,”_ he said in that ice-cold, lazy voice that Peggy knew meant trouble. _“À vrai dire, je ne vous trouve pas assez important à remarquer.”_

Peggy put her hand lightly on her husband’s arm. “Gil,” she said softly, but he didn’t respond. She was pretty sure he hadn’t even heard her or felt her hand.

TJ flushed. His eyes looked glazed, and Peggy wondered what in the world was going on. Sure, TJ could be a jerk, but he wasn’t usually this obnoxious.

There was a long, tense pause, and then Gil took a breath. “Thomas,” he said, his voice quiet and cold, “you are a guest in my home, and we are celebrating my best friend’s wedding. Please walk away. Go talk to someone else.”

“Yes, let’s do that,” Maddie urged. “Look, there’s Ned over there. Let’s go say hi to him.”

“Yeah, okay,” TJ muttered. “We’ll leave _Monsieur le Marquis_ here so he can wait on his little wifey hand and foot.”

“Hey, TJ, watch it,” John said, stepping up in front of TJ. “That’s my sister you’re talking about.”

Peggy had never been so glad to see anybody in her life.

“She’s not your sister,” TJ growled. “She’s a Schuyler.”

“Right,” John told him. “She’s Peggy Schuyler Motier, and I’m John Laurens-Schuyler, and that makes her my sister.” John stepped a little closer, so that he was clearly in TJ’s personal space. He lowered his voice, but it was perfectly clear. “Now if you’re too drunk or too stupid to figure out what that means, my brother-in-law here and I will take you outside and explain it in words of one syllable.”

TJ stood and considered for a minute, his eyes narrowed. “You’re John Laurens,” he said. “You kept getting shot.”

“John Laurens-Schuyler,” John corrected, “and what the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

TJ tapped John on the chest with one finger. “They couldn’t kill you,” he muttered.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” John turned to Maddie. “You going to take him home?”

Maddie nodded unhappily. “He had a few drinks before we got here.”

“No shit. Too bad he can’t have a few drinks and still behave like a gentleman.” John grinned at that and said over his shoulder to Peggy, “That was my best Henry Laurens impersonation ever.”

Peggy started laughing almost hysterically, and John casually twisted TJ’s arm behind his back and propelled him toward the stairs. On the way, he said, “Hey, Herc, give me a hand here,” and the two of them escorted TJ from the reception, Maddie trailing behind them and sniffling.

Marcy slipped back into the chair next to Peggy. “You wanted me to get John, right?”

Peggy threw her arms around her. “Oh, sweetie, I _so_ wanted you to get John!”

Gil was still standing without moving.

“Gil, _chéri,_ ” Peggy ventured.

He looked down at her, and his face softened. “I did not kill him,” he announced.

“No, you did not. You did not even hit him.”

“I think I should have hit him.”

“No, really, it’s better that you didn’t. Do you want something to drink?”

Gil considered for a minute. “Not champagne, no, but I would like some tea.”

“Do you want me to get you some tea?” Marcy asked eagerly.

“That would be nice,” Peggy said. Marcy ran off, and Peggy pulled Gil down onto the window seat next to her. “He was drunk.”

“Yes,” Gil agreed, “and offensive.”

“Yes, but he’s gone now.”

“Do you think John and Herc are beating him up before they put him in the car?”

“Probably not.”

“ _Quel dommage._ ”

Peggy leaned against his shoulder. “I wonder what’s wrong with him,” she murmured. “I mean, he’s annoying, but he’s usually not that bad.”

_“C’est un connard.”_

That made her laugh again, but she looked over her shoulder. “Don’t say that word here.”

“Well, he is. I can’t believe the Virginians elected him to Congress.” TJ would be a member of the House of Representatives.

A few minutes later, Marcy returned, accompanied by Malik, who was carrying a try.

“The caterers didn’t bring tea,” she said, a little breathless, “so I went down to the kitchen.”

“I thought I should help,” Malik added, “since she’s walking on the stairs in those heels. We brought tea for both of you.”

They had, in fact, brought a small teapot and two cups, as well as milk and sugar. Malik set the tray down on the table, and Marcy poured out the tea.

Peggy added milk to hers, then sipped it gratefully. “You guys are the best,” she told them. “I might even be able to get up and dance now.”

The caterers were clearing away the dishes and the band was tuning up. Oumar, who was acting as master of ceremonies, tapped his microphone to be sure it was on and made a few welcoming remarks. As he was talking, Peggy saw John and Herc return to the room, and John caught her eye and gave her a thumbs-up. The TJ problem was gone, at least for now, and they could all enjoy the reception. Alex and Eliza had requested that everything be as informal as possible, so when Oumar introduced the wedding party, they just stood up where they were instead of making an entrance from somewhere. He used everyone’s full names, though, including Gil’s, which brought a few gasps, and when he introduced Marcy, Peggy heard Malik whisper, “Your real name is Martha?” She nodded, and he said, “That’s nice. I like old-fashioned names.”

Peggy looked over at Gil to see if he had heard, and apparently he had, since he was trying to hide a smile. She nudged him and raised her eyebrows. He leaned down and whispered to her, “He does remind me of me at that age.” Peggy wasn’t at all sure that was a good thing.

Once everyone was introduced, Alex and Eliza danced their first dance to “All of Me,” then the full wedding party was invited to join them. Gil held out his hand to Peggy and said, _“Danse avec moi, chérie,”_ and she realized that she had never danced with her husband.

“Not very gracefully, I’m afraid,” she responded, a little embarrassed.

He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it. “You could not possibly be more beautiful,” he said, so softly that only she could hear it, and she blushed. She found that it was actually very easy to dance with Gil, as his hand on her waist gently guided her, and his gaze held hers as they moved around the floor. As she became more relaxed in his hold, he took a chance on a bolder move or two and spun her around. She followed him easily, and he laughed with delight, and as they continued, she realized that other people were looking at them admiringly. _It’s all Gil,_ she thought. _I should have known he’d be a fabulous dancer._ She looked up at him, filled with love and happiness and that other wonderful feeling that he was creating by moving his fingers oh-so-subtly at the small of her back. When the music stopped, he pulled her tight to him and whispered in her ear, _“Ah, chérie, je veux te baiser.”_

She was grateful that her face was against his neck so that her gasp was muffled, and she hoped everyone would just think she was blushing at the attention they had gotten for dancing.

She laughed, though, and told him, “As soon as possible, but please behave yourself because we’re in the middle of a hundred people.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said, as they went back to their seats, “but how can anyone expect me to control myself with such a beautiful wife?”

She saw that Marcy and Malik were seated back at the table and admonished him, “You have to set an example for the children.”

“We already have,” he said irrepressibly.

They were both laughing when they sat down.

“You guys are such good dancers!” Marcy told them. She had danced with Burr, very correctly, but very nervously.

“Thank you,” Peggy said. “Actually, that’s the first time we’ve ever danced together.”

“You’re kidding! It looked like you were having so much fun.” She sounded envious.

“We were. I enjoyed it a lot. Gil and I didn’t meet until after he and Alex were already in the Movement and Angelica and Eliza and I had to go into hiding. We didn’t have any opportunities to dance.”

“How are you so good, then?”

“I have a theory,” Peggy told her, and turned to Gil. “You had dancing lessons, didn’t you?”

“Oh, _chérie_ , not just dancing lessons, dancing school. Years of it. I didn’t love it so much when I was twelve, but now I appreciate it.”

“I have to admit, I do too. I’d like to dance again after I’ve had a rest.”

“By all means.”

The music had started up again, and Malik turned to Marcy. “Would you like to dance?”

She nodded, and he took her hand and led her onto the dance floor.

“I so need to talk to John,” Peggy said, looking around for him. She saw him dancing with Molly and gave him a quick signal when he glanced her way. He handed Molly off to Herc and came over to their table.

“TJ is an asshole,” he announced, taking a seat in Marcy’s chair.

“That’s what Gil said,” Peggy told him, “only in French.”

John and Gil high-fived.

“Okay, stop,” she said, “I need to talk to you about Marcy.”

John was immediately serious. “Why? What’s up?”

“Malik seems very interested in her,” Peggy began tentatively.

“Can’t say that I blame him,” John replied calmly. “She’s cute and smart and really sweet.”

Peggy frowned. That wasn’t quite the response she was expecting. “He’s a very charming boy,” she said, realizing she sounded like somebody’s grandmother.

John’s mouth twitched, and he glanced at Gil, who was smiling. “Honey, did you think I hadn’t noticed?” He put his arm around her and pulled her head down on his shoulder. “I am the hawk-eyed brother. I know exactly what my sisters are up to every minute, and if you think I didn’t see Gil eye-fucking you every minute you were out on that dance floor, you are sadly mistaken.”

Peggy screeched, turned bright red, and threw her arm around his neck, hiding her face against his shoulder. When she looked up, John and Gil were both laughing and she started to giggle too.

“I can’t believe you just said that!” she told John.

“’Eye-fucking’ is an interesting expression,” Gil mused thoughtfully. “I wasn’t familiar with it before.”

“Okay, stop it, both of you,” Peggy implored, still giggling. “The kids will hear you.”

“And that’s fine,” John said gently. “They’re not babies.”

“She’s only fourteen!”

“Which is, as far as I can tell, a normal age for her to fall in love. Maybe she’ll be in love for a week, maybe a year, maybe she’ll marry the guy. Who knows? But I’m sure as hell not going to tell her she shouldn’t do it.”

“But what if …?”

“What if what, Sis?” he asked, looking directly into her eyes.

“What if he hurts her?”

John leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. “I can’t prevent that. Neither can you. We all get hurt. But Marcy knows we love her, and more important, that we trust her judgment. We’ll always be here to catch her if she falls.”

“You are so … philosophical,” she told him. “I mean, I understand what you’re saying. I even agree with it in theory, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it when it’s Katie.” She turned to Gil. “What do you think?”

He didn’t answer her directly, but spoke to John. “I wonder if it comes from growing up essentially without parents. We found our way alone, and so we expect them to as well.”

John nodded. “Could be.”

“You’re not worried that Malik might push Marcy faster than she wants to go?” Peggy asked.

“I have to trust her,” John said. “I’ll remind her from time to time that she calls the shots on her own behavior, and if she wants to run anything by me, I’ll give her my opinion, but still, the decisions are hers.”

“Okay, then,” Peggy agreed. “I’ll back you a hundred percent. And really, he does seem like a nice kid.”

“That’s because he reminds you of me,” Gil said.

“He does have that charm …”

John shrugged and grinned. “It worked out for you two.”

Another song was starting. “May I have this dance?” Gil asked politely.

“Of course you may,” Peggy replied, smiling.

“And may I eye-fuck you throughout the dance?” Gil inquired just as politely.

Peggy let out a muffled squeak, and he led her onto the dance floor, leaving John falling out of his chair laughing.

For the first few minutes of the dance, Peggy kept her gaze focused on Gil’s tie because she was afraid she’d start laughing if she looked into his eyes. Once they got started, though, she relaxed. He was doing that tantalizing thing with his fingers again, and she looked up into his eyes. “You really are incorrigible,” she told him.

“Mm. But you love me.”

“So much.”

“I am so happy, _chérie._ I am the luckiest man in the world.” He spun her around, and they both laughed.

“That thing you’re doing with your fingers …” she said.

“This thing?” he asked, doing it again, the pressure from his middle finger just a little lower, and making her catch her breath.

“Mm-hm, that thing. It’s quite … um … exhilarating.”

“That is what I hoped.”

He kept it up. She knew her panties were already wet, and her breathing was faster. So did he, and he loved the effect his touch was having on her.

“Where did you learn that?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Dancing school,” he told her, “the year I was sixteen.”

The music ended and he twirled her one more time and they went back to the table. John was still there, and she saw that Marcy and Malik were across the room with the Mulligan twins.

“How did I do?” Gil asked John.

“Well,” John said, “you didn’t actually start ripping her clothes off, but a couple of times there I thought you might.”

“I love my wife,” Gil declared, “and she is very beautiful.”

“Yes, she is. Listen, though, Alex came over to talk to me while you guys were dancing, and he told me what was going on with TJ.”

“He told you what caused him to arrive at a wedding already drunk and act like an asshole?”

“Actually, yes. There’s a story about TJ that’s going to break in the news tomorrow. TJ got a heads-up about it from the reporter, and one of Alex’s media contacts told him, so …”

“So we don’t have to get it from the media tomorrow.”

“Right.”

“What is it?” Peggy asked. “I mean, TJ’s so – oh, you know, comes from a wealthy family, super smart, went to all the right schools, studied in Paris, dating sniffly little genius Maddie. What can anybody say about him?”

“How about he’s got three kids that he’s been keeping stashed away with their mother somewhere?”

Peggy and Gil both stared at him.

“This is a joke, no?” Gil said. “Now you tell us the rest of it.”

John shook his head. “No joke. Dead serious.”

“But who? I mean, why?” She blinked a couple of times. “Sorry, but what the hell?”

Gil was counting on his fingers. “TJ’s younger than I am, and he’s already got three kids? How old is the oldest?”

“Four.”

“So he was, what, nineteen?”

John nodded. "Remember why we always wondered why he suddenly transferred to William and Mary from Columbia halfway through his freshman year? It was because he was about to become a father."

“Okay, but why?” Peggy asked. “I mean, I know, girls get pregnant, but then two more? And anyway, why not just be open about it? It’s not that big a deal, so why all the secrecy up till now?”

“Yeah, here’s what Alex said. The girl -- her name is Sasha -- is the daughter of a housekeeper who used to work for TJ’s parents. TJ’s been paying her to keep quiet because even when he was nineteen, he knew he wanted a political career. Thing is, Sasha was only fourteen when the first kid was born.”

“Oh, yikes!” Peggy said, with a quick glance at Marcy across the room.

“And he was nineteen, so it was statutory rape,” Gil concluded, a look of disgust on his face.

“Yeah,” John nodded, “and it kept on being statutory rape until three months ago when Sasha turned eighteen.”

“So this girl had three kids before she was eighteen?” Peggy asked.

“There’s more,” John went on. “The girls’ parents are immigrants, good people, I gather, but not well-educated, and not familiar with our laws. They were upset, naturally, that their daughter was pregnant so young, but they had no idea there was any legal recourse. It was only a couple of months ago that Sasha figured out that TJ is not exactly her dream come true. She had been pressuring him for some sort of commitment, maybe an engagement, at least, but he kept putting her off. She didn’t know anything about Maddie.”

“Oh, that poor girl!” Peggy exclaimed.

“So Sasha dressed up all three kids – and apparently they all look like TJ – and took them to meet their grandparents.”

“TJ’s parents? Oh, God.”

Gil put his face in his hands. “That could not have gone well.”

“No, especially when TJ told his parents that the kids’ father was actually a cousin of his, a guy named Pete Carr, who happens to look something like TJ and has red hair like his.”

“Oh, that son of a bitch!” Peggy said, furious. “Did he assume nobody was going to do DNA testing?”

 _“Imbécile!”_ Gil commented.

“Yeah, well, needless to say, the DNA testing was done, and TJ’s the daddy, and now that he’s in Congress, it’s going to be all over the news.”

“Oh, my God, what a mess! Does Maddie know yet?” Peggy asked.

John shrugged. “According to Alex, that’s what everybody’s wondering. I mean, you would hope that TJ would give her a heads-up before reporters come knocking on her door, but …”

 _“Quel connard!”_ Gil muttered.

“And this poor girl, Sasha, what about her now?” Peggy wanted to know.

“She’s got a lawyer,” John said.

Peggy looked from Gil to John and back again. She leaned her head on Gil’s shoulder and grabbed John’s hand. “Just, you know, thanks for being good guys, both of you. Poor Sasha. Poor Maddie. Poor little kids.”

Their attention was drawn back to a happier theme when Oumar got everyone’s attention and announced that it was time to cut the cake. Alex and Eliza stood together, looking adorable, in front of the multi-tier cake. Someone handed them a knife with blue and white ribbons tied on it, and, a little self-consciously, they cut the first slice and fed it to each other docilely. Peggy knew that Alex had been threatened with all kinds of retribution if he tried anything funny like shoving the cake into Eliza’s face, so he behaved himself. The caterers took over cutting the rest of it, and the band struck up a circle dance for anyone who wanted to join in.

John grinned. “You guys going to do the hokey-pokey?”

Gil shook his head. “I didn’t learn that one in dancing school.”

John crossed the room and dragged Marcy and Malik into the circle with him, and had all the kids laughing hysterically within two minutes.

“I love him a lot,” Peggy said.

“So do I,” Gil told her. “Our family may be unconventional, but we are lucky in the family that we have.” He kissed her gently. “Tired, _chérie?”_

“Mm-hm. But happy.”

“Everybody will be leaving soon,” he said.

“Then can you show me something later, after they’re gone?”

“Show you what?”

“That thing you did with your fingers while we were dancing? Can you show me how it feels if there’s not a bridesmaid gown in the way?”

“Oh, I will be very glad to show you that.” He kissed her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Eliza are finally married. it probably won't really change much in their day-to-day lives, but it's another indication of the return to "normal life."  
> Gil used some very bad [French] language in this chapter. Please do not repeat his expressions to your French teacher, or if you do, do not blame me if you get in trouble.  
> So should John be more watchful of Malik? Where's that relationship going to go? How will we ever know?  
> And is TJ a jerk or what? You've probably guessed that Sasha is my stand-in for Sally Hemings, not that there's any possible way to make even the statutory rape of a 14-year-old anything like Sally's experience. Fortunately for all of us, there is no modern equivalent of slavery. My fictional Sasha gets to hire a lawyer and sue the pants off TJ. Sally didn't even get her freedom.  
> Moving away from that grim topic.  
> The next chapter begins with Christmas and ends with President Akhdir's Inaugural Ball, so it will be very festive.  
> Thank you all so much for reading and caring about these characters and leaving me such interesting and thoughtful comments and kudos. One of the very best things about this -- my first venture into fanfiction -- has been hearing from so many really, really cool people. Two more chapters to go after this, so tell me what you think!


	64. I Know Who I Married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Motier family prepares for Christmas, a new baby, and (maybe) an Inaugural Ball. Katie has an opinion about Santa Claus. TJ pisses off the President. Angelica has some news. John cooks Christmas dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You will see that the final chapter count has been changed. There was so much going on that I just couldn't get it all into 65 chapters. I blame Marcy and Malik.

Peggy was having a hard time talking to Katie about Santa Claus. Katie had heard about him at pre-school, of course, and there were images of him everywhere, but if Peggy asked her about him, she just said, “I don’t like him.” When they face-timed with the Laurens kids and Polly chattered excitedly about Santa’s upcoming visit, Katie would reply, “He’s not coming to our house because I don’t like him.”

“Do you suppose it’s the beard?” Peggy asked Gil. “I mean, she doesn’t know anybody who wears a beard.”

Gil shrugged. “It might be. It doesn’t matter, though. If she doesn’t want Santa to come here, he won’t come here.”

“But then …”

Gil took both her hands. “Then what?”

Peggy gave a rueful smile. “I was looking forward to all the Christmas traditions with the kids.”

“There are quite a few traditions to celebrate, aren’t there? Will it matter so much if we skip one?’

Peggy felt tears filling her eyes. Damn pregnancy hormones.

 _“Viens, chérie,”_ Gil said, pulling her close. “It’s not Christmas yet. We’ll keep the Santa possibility open, but I don’t want to give Katie the idea that she has to like anybody, even Santa, just because everybody else does. Remember, too, she’s never really had a Christmas. Maybe once she experiences it, she’ll be happier about the whole Santa Claus thing.”

They were keeping Christmas fairly simple this year after the excitement of Thanksgiving and Alex and Eliza’s wedding in November. Angelica was coming down from New York a couple of days early, and then on Christmas Day they would all drive down to the Capital for dinner with Alex, Eliza, John, Burr, and kids. They’d spend the night there and return home the next day. Herc was staying in New York to celebrate Christmas with his family for the first time in years. Peggy was actually glad that the holiday would be low key. They had to figure out what their own celebration would be like and start their own traditions. They’d have a tree, of course, but they had no ornaments to put on it yet, and Peggy didn’t want to decorate the whole house, at least not this year. There was plenty of room for five or six trees, not to mention all the greenery and lights that could be wound around the stair banister and across the mantels. The ballroom would be gorgeous decorated for Christmas, but maybe next year. Maybe next year they would have a Christmas Ball.

“I don’t think we should have any more babies in January,” Peggy told Gil one night after Katie was in bed and they were sitting in the living room watching the fire in the fireplace fade to embers.

“Why is that, _chérie?”_ Gil asked, his arm around her, and his hand playing in her curls.

“Well, for one thing, it might interfere with invitations to any future Inaugural Balls,” she said unhappily. They had received their invitation to the post-inauguration festivities, beautifully engraved on heavy ivory-colored paper, but with the inauguration being January twentieth and the baby’s due date being January twenty-fourth, it looked like they would have to miss it.

“We might never get another chance.”

“I know. It would be nice to go, I agree.”

“What if the baby still isn’t here by then? I mean, it’s only three hours away. It’s not like going to the inauguration requires a plane trip.”

Gil nodded.

“So we go, right?”

He took a deep breath. “Let’s see how things are on January nineteenth. If the baby still isn’t showing signs that he’s about to arrive, we’ll drive down and stay with John or Alex. They’re going, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then let’s just wait and see.”

Peggy tapped her belly. “You listening, baby? Just hang out in there where it’s nice and cozy until at least January twenty-first.” She turned to Gil. “First babies are usually late, aren’t they?”

“Sometimes.” He smiled at her. “I would like so much to dance with you again.”

“I’d wear my dress from the wedding,” she said.

“You looked so lovely that day. I didn’t think you could be any more beautiful that you already were, but being pregnant makes you even more beautiful.”

“You’re sweet to say that when I am tired and cranky all the time.”

“You are not cranky, _ma belle,_ ” he said.

“Mm. But no more January babies.”

“So which month should we … um … aim for next time?”

She thought for a minute. “September. The baby would be sleeping through the night by Thanksgiving.”

“And coincidentally, you and I were both born in September,” he pointed out.

“Exactly. I’m sure we didn’t inconvenience our parents at all.”

“Well, if we want a baby born in September, that means you would need to get pregnant right around Christmas. It might be a pleasant way to spend the holiday, actually.”

She giggled. “Or just a cold winter evening like this one.”

“Of course, it’s all hypothetical because you are already pregnant.”

“Right, and I should probably tell you that I don’t think we should have a baby every year.”

 _“Non?”_ He shrugged. _“Comme tu veux, chérie._ You are doing all the hard work.”

Hard work. _There’s a reason they call it labor,_ Annie had said when Desi was pregnant. Peggy had been with Desi all through her labor, had been there when Teddie was born, and Desi had handled it, even without any pain medication at all. It hadn’t been easy, but she had done it.

Of course, that was Desi, the toughest woman she’d ever known. She was grateful that she would have options for pain relief when the time came. Not much longer now.

“I’m a little scared of all that hard work,” she said now, and Gil slid her up onto his lap as he always had, even though now she and the baby bump together took up a lot more room.

 _“Mon cher petit mouton,”_ he said, “you have already done so much of the work. And when labor starts, I will be with you. I will be right there every minute, and I will make sure that everyone takes very, very good care of you.”

They had visited the maternity hospital at Penn where their baby would be born. The staff knew her as one of the Schuyler sisters, and they all recognized her tall, handsome husband as Lafayette, who had served (illegally) as a doctor during the Insurrection, and who would actually be finishing medical school at Penn. When they had toured the facilities, one of the doctors had asked Gil outright if he was the one who had saved Colonel Laurens’s life. Gil hated when someone called attention to the emergency work he had done, but he smiled politely and admitted that yes, he had done surgery on Colonel Laurens, with the help of several others. Still, Peggy thought now, a little cynically maybe, that it wouldn’t hurt that everyone on staff knew who they were.

She leaned against him, and he rubbed her lower back, which always ached now. “Gil, in about six more weeks, we’re really going to have a baby.”

The smile that she loved lit up his face. “Our baby.” He kissed her and added, “Katie’s ours too, of course, but this one we made ourselves.”

She laughed. “I used to think that you said things like that because English wasn’t your native language, but now I know it’s just because you’re crazy. How many people have you told that we actually made this baby ourselves?”

He pretended to count on his fingers and made her laugh again. “I don’t know, really. Does it matter? It’s true.”

She leaned over his left arm so that he could reach her back better with his right hand. It felt wonderful, and she sighed. “Being married to you is the most amazing thing in the universe,” she said.

“The entire universe?” he asked, finding the tight spots in her muscles and making them relax.

“Mm-hm.”

“You are tired, my little sheep.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Put your arms around my neck, _chérie,”_ he told her. She did as he said, and he slid his left arm under her knees.

“You can’t carry me upstairs,” she told him sleepily.

“Of course I can,” he said, standing up effortlessly.

He carried her up the long staircase as easily as if she had been Katie. In their room, he laid her gently on their bed, and took off her robe and slippers.

“Are you going to wear that to bed?” he asked, indicating her pretty green sleep shirt with the ribbon trim.

“It’s a cold night,” she reminded him, smiling.

His own clothes had already been thrown over a chair. “I promise you, you will not be cold.”

She sat up enough to pull the sleep shirt over her head. He lay down next to her, her back to his front, and pulled her close, one arm under her head, the other over her hip, with his hand caressing her belly. The baby kicked, and he caught his breath. Right here in his arms, he held the world. He kissed the back of her neck, and then the side of her neck, and then the top of her shoulder, marveling that everything he held was his. He pulled the covers up over them both and whispered to her, _“Dors bien, chérie. Je t’aime.”_

* * * * *

It seemed very strange to go shopping together without hacked credit cards and fake ID’s. They had real, legal cards now, and no ID was needed for shopping. They didn’t have to declare their political party before being allowed inside a store. They could even use their own names.

Gil’s plan was that they could do all their Christmas shopping in one day if they were well-organized, so they made a list ahead of time. The problem was, it had been so long since they had shopped for anything but necessities that their list had entries like “Alex and Eliza – something for house; Polly – toy; Marcy – something cute.” Gil was sure they’d find suitable gifts. Peggy suspected at least one more shopping trip was going to be required.

“Let’s get ornaments first,” Peggy suggested as they entered a home and garden store. “I want to be sure to get the tree done before Angelica gets here.”

The store had stacks of boxes of ornaments arranged by color, and three long aisles of individual ornaments of every conceivable design. They told Katie that she could pick out the first one, which they quickly realized might have been a mistake. She wanted to examine every one carefully before making a decision.

“We are going to be here for a while,” Gil said, lifting Katie up for the third time so she could inspect an ornament that was over her head.

“We’ll know better next year,” Peggy assured him.

“I want a turtle,” Katie announced.

That at least made it easier. There was a whole section of animal ornaments, everything from dinosaurs to Dalmatians, including, to their relief, turtles. Katie picked out a friendly-looking little turtle with a holly sprig on its head, and Peggy examined a much more expensive one made of glass. “We really should get this for John,” she said.

Both turtles went into the shopping cart, and then they had fun just grabbing anything they liked, including several boxes of assorted ornaments in lots of colors.

“A star or an angel for the top?” Peggy asked.

“Star,” Gil decided, and they found one with dozens of tiny lights.

“Are we getting a real tree or an artificial tree? If we’re getting a real one, we’ll need strings of lights.”

“Let’s get a real one.”

Peggy wasn’t so sure. “Real trees have to be watered, you know. They’re harder to set up, too.”

“I’m pretty sure I can do it. Oumar will help.”

“Okay, then, we need lights. All white or different colors?”

“What do you think?”

“We have lots of different colored ornaments, so white lights.”

They added six strings of white lights. Gil looked at the cart, now piled high, and said, “We really should decorate the outside of the house. Everybody knows who lives there, and we want to make a good impression.”

Peggy looked up at him, trying not to smile. “It’s the celebrity thing again, isn’t it?”

He shrugged. _“Noblesse oblige, ma chérie.”_

 _“Comme vous voulez, mon Seigneur,”_ she said formally, with a little curtsey.

He laughed out loud and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. _“Comme je veux? Alors, je veux_ …” and he bent down to kiss her, quite thoroughly, much to the surprise of a middle-aged gentleman entering the aisle from the other direction. He harrumphed, and Katie smiled at him kindly. “Tonton loves Tatie,” she explained.

“I will never be able to show my face in this store again,” Peggy lamented after the startled gentleman had made a quick U-turn and departed.

 _“Au contraire, chérie_ , after they see how much we are buying here, you will be welcome any time.” Gil was having fun, his eyes sparkling with delight that he was out shopping with his two beautiful girls that he loved to show off to the world. Peggy knew better than to try to restrain him when he was in this mood, so when he said, “We need another cart,” she just watched him take the full one to a cashier and explain. He came back with a second cart, and they went to the section of the store that had outdoor decorations. Katie was enthralled with the brightly painted wooden soldiers with their tall hats and drums.

“He’s bigger than you, Tonton!” she exclaimed in amazement.

Katie was right. Each wooden soldier stood nearly seven feet high.

“We’d need two,” Gil said, “one for each side of the front door.”

Peggy looked at the price and blinked. “You’re sure you don’t want a whole battalion?” she asked. “You know, so they could march down the driveway in formation?”

“Now you are being silly,” he told her. “How much are they?”

“Just under a thousand each.”

He shrugged. “We’ll get two then.” He held Katie up so that she could look one of the soldiers in the face. _“Tu aimes, ma petite?”_

_“Oui, j’aime bien. Il est sympa!”_

_“Je me demande comment ils s’appellent,”_ Gil said, watching Katie’s face.

She thought about it. _“Celui-ci s’appelle Oncle John et celui-là s’appelle Oncle Alex.”_

“I’m taking pictures right now and sending them to John and Alex!” Peggy declared, pulling out her phone.

John and Alex both sent back laughing emojis, and John texted, “Next time I’m there, I’ll paint freckles on one so you can tell us apart.”

Since the giant wooden soldiers wouldn’t fit in the cart, they arranged to have them delivered and went on to buy outdoor lights, wreaths, and yards of red ribbon.

They checked out, leaving the store manager very happy indeed, and took a break for lunch before going on to try to buy gifts for everyone. By three o’clock, both Katie and Peggy were tired, and Gil had to admit that his one-day plan was not going to work out. They headed home and handed Katie over to Delphine, while Peggy went upstairs to take a warm shower and lie down. She came back into the bedroom wearing her pink striped maternity pajamas and was not entirely surprised to find Gil waiting for her. He had brought her a cup of tea.

“You are the absolute best husband in the world,” she told him, sipping the tea gratefully.

“Ah, but I have the best wife,” he told her. “Come sit down for a while.”

The sitting room was perfect for times like this. The couch, chair, and ottoman were upholstered in pearl-gray velvet, with cream and aqua throw pillows. The furniture was painted a creamy off-white and the thick area rug was aqua and gray. Peggy sank down on the couch and put her feet up, and Gil tucked a soft rose-colored blanket around her.

They had decided to keep electronics out of the sitting room and just use it for time together. Gil sat down at the other end of the couch, put his feet up on the ottoman, and pulled her feet onto his lap so that he could massage them.

“Did I say best husband in the world? Let me correct that, best husband in the universe.”

He just smiled and kept doing what he was doing, finding that spot in the center of the sole of her foot and pressing it so that she let out a little hum of pleasure.

“You always make me feel so good,” she murmured.

He took his time finishing her foot massage, then tucked the blanket back around her and knelt down on the floor so that his face was on a level with hers. She reached out and ran her fingers through his curls, and he leaned in and kissed her.

“Once upon a time,” he said, his hand brushing her hair back gently and caressing her face, “years ago, a beautiful girl walked through a door, and I fell in love with her.”

“Right then and there?”

“That exact instant. I said to myself, this is the woman I will spend my life with.”

“Did you tell her?”

“Not until a little while later.”

“What did she say?”

“She said she loved me too.”

“And what are you doing now, you and that girl, after all this time?”

“Living happily ever after.”

* * * * *

“Hey,” John said the minute she answered the phone, “put the news on.”

“What?” It was still early, and Delphine had just taken Katie to preschool. Peggy was having a second cup of tea and nibbling on some toast.

“The morning news thing, you know, Joe whatsisname.”

Peggy switched on the TV to see a photo of TJ and Maddie and heard a voice saying “… Thursday, in a private ceremony. Sources say that the new Mrs. Jefferson supports her husband fully and refers to his former relationship as ‘a youthful mistake.’”

“Holy shit!” Peggy gasped. “Gil! Come listen to this!”

Gil came into the kitchen looking a little alarmed, but Peggy was fine and pointing to the TV. They were showing a video clip now, with TJ celebrating his Congressional election. Maddie was in and out of the clip but wasn’t seen to be any closer to TJ than any other staffer in the video.

“They’re married,” Peggy told Gil.

“Who?”

She gestured at the TV. “TJ and Maddie.”

“What?”

“I know, right?”

“Who’s on the phone?”

“John – oh, hey, John, you still there?” She switched the phone to speaker so Gil could hear.

“Yeah, I’m here. How about this, huh?”

“Does Alex know?”

“Yeah, he called me right before it broke on the news.”

“Um, how does Alex feel about this development?”

John laughed. “You mean you didn’t hear the explosion? It’s a good thing TJ and Maddie are away on their honeymoon because Alex was going to hunt him down and beat the shit out of him.”

“Did Alex say anything about how the President might react?” Gil inquired.

“Yeah, in between telling me how he’d like to bang TJ’s fucking head against the wall until his eyeballs popped out and yelling that Maddie was a smart girl who should know better than to throw herself away on a total asshole, he did mention that the President is furious. It makes the whole party look bad. He had a talk with TJ, apparently, and had … let’s see, how did Alex put it? The President expressed his hope that Congressman Jefferson would step up and do the right thing by his former girlfriend and their children.”

“So TJ hasn’t done anything about taking responsibility for those poor kids?” Peggy asked.

“Not as far as anybody knows. Right now, it’s her lawyer and his lawyer having conversations.”

 _“Connard,”_ Gil muttered.

There was another video on the TV screen, this time of a young woman with three very small children getting out of a car and trying to keep her face turned away from the camera. Questions were shouted at her as she clutched her children tightly and ducked through a door into what looked like an office building.

“… her attorney,” said the voice on the TV.

“I would be interested to know what TJ thinks he’s doing,” Gil said thoughtfully. “If he wanted to marry Maddie, surely it would have been better to wait until this matter is settled in some way.”

“You would think,” John agreed.

“You said they went on a honeymoon?” Peggy asked.

“Yeah, they’re going to be out of town till Monday, in ‘an undisclosed location.’”

“I am looking forward to his first press conference after his return,” Gil said. “I hope it’s televised.”

* * * * *

Angelica arrived two days before Christmas, once again with enough luggage for a month. She was quite impressed when Katie introduced her to the two gigantic wooden soldiers, Uncle John and Uncle Alex.

“They don’t actually look much like John and Alex,” she commented when Katie wasn’t listening.

“John’s going to paint freckles on one so we can tell them apart,” Peggy told her.

“Katie really picked them out?”

“Oh, yes. Gil pretty much told her she could have anything she wanted, and she just happened to want two enormous toy soldiers.”

Angelica thought about it. “Could have been worse.”

Peggy’s eyebrow went up.

“She could have wanted live reindeer or something.”

“Oh, no,” Peggy said. “No reindeer, no Santa.”

“What?”

“She doesn’t like Santa. We’re not forcing the issue, so Santa isn’t coming here.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me! How can Santa not come on Christmas Eve?”

“She really doesn’t like him.”

“Why?” Angelica asked.

Peggy shrugged. “I have no idea. That’s all she says. It’s not that big a deal, really. She’ll still get presents, but they’ll be from us, not Santa.”

Angelica shook her head. “But don’t you remember all the fun we had waiting for Santa? Remember leaving him cookies and milk, and carrots for the reindeer?”

“Of course, but we liked Santa.”

“All kids like Santa.”

“Not Katie.”

Angelica still wasn’t reconciled to the no-Santa Christmas celebration by Christmas Eve. She tried to insist that they all hang their stockings for Santa to fill, and Peggy had to tell her in front of Katie that they weren’t going to do that because Santa wasn’t coming to their house.

“Santa brings lots of toys to kids. Don’t you want him to bring you some, Katie-boo?” Angelica asked, getting down on the floor in front of the Christmas tree.

“No,” Katie said.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t like him.”

Angelica looked pleadingly at Gil and Peggy over Katie’s head, but Gil shook his head firmly.

Santa’s absence notwithstanding, there were plenty of presents under the tree on Christmas morning. Katie had spent most of her young life with only a few toys, so Peggy and Gil didn’t want to overwhelm her. She still played with Little Baby and Terkle (who was still named Terkle even though she now could say the word turtle), so they added just a few more. She got a baby doll with its own crib and a set of dishes so she could have tea parties. There were other things as well, a kid-size rocking chair, new pajamas, a fuzzy hat and mittens set. Angelica had brought her books: Goodnight, Moon; Go, Dog, Go, and a big Mother Goose anthology with beautiful pictures. Katie was delighted with everything and promptly named her new doll Big Baby. Peggy, whose dolls had always had names like Sabrina Anastasia and Dorothea Marianne, said with some concern, “I hope she’s a little more creative when she has real children.”

After a leisurely breakfast they loaded the car with Angelica's giant suitcases and presents for everyone in the capital. Gil was glad he'd had the foresight to buy an SUV to supplement the Audi. Just as they were about to leave, Malik ran up to Gil and handed him a small package.

“Would you mind taking this to Marcy?” he asked, looking a little embarrassed.

 _“Pas du tout,”_ Gil assured him. Malik gave him a grateful thank you and ran back into the house.

“Hm,” Angelica said, eyeing the package. “Do you suppose we could peel off the tape enough to see what it is?”

“No!” Peggy told her.

“Aren’t you curious?”

“Of course,” Peggy admitted, “but still no.”

“Fine!” Angelica shrugged, and got into the car.

Katie was in her car seat with Big Baby, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, and settled with a video of _The Little Mermaid_. There wasn't much traffic on the holiday, and Peggy actually enjoyed the ride, as it gave her and Angelica a chance to catch up.

"You doing anything special for New Year’s?" she asked her sister.

"Mm, kind of," Angelica replied, looking out the window.

Peggy waited for a minute, then, "So? What are you doing?"

”Going skiing in New Hampshire."

“Oh, that sounds like fun!” It took her a minute to put two and two together. “New Hampshire is nice. Have you been there recently?”

Angelica gave her a look. “Yes, little sister, I’ve been there recently. I’ve spent a few weekends in New Hampshire since I moved back to New York.”

“Mm,” Peggy said, as neutrally as she could.

There was silence in the car except for Sebastian the crab singing “Under the Sea.” Peggy looked at Gil who just shrugged.

“Oh, go ahead!” Angelica finally snapped. “Ask me!”

“So did you by any chance run into Jack Sullivan when you were there?” Peggy inquired in such a casual and innocent voice that they all started laughing.

“Yes, I’ve been seeing Jack,” Angelica admitted. “I have no idea if it’s going to go anywhere, which is why we didn’t say anything to anybody, but he’s fun, and we’re enjoying ourselves, so that’s all there is for now.”

“You know we all like Jack,” Peggy assured her. “You should bring him down sometime.”

“See, that’s getting into the whole family thing, and we just don’t want to do that yet.”

“Okay, no problem. Whatever works for you guys.”

“You’ll see him at the Inaugural Ball.”

“If we go,” Peggy reminded her.

“Yeah, Baby Motier doesn’t have a great sense of timing,” Angelica pointed out.

Gil would brook no criticism of his child. “It was our timing, not his,” he said. “We will manage it better next time.”

Angelica nearly fell off her seat laughing. “Oh, okay, then. I’m making a note of that. How many more after this?”

Peggy smiled. “Four? Five? We’ll know when we know.”

“Fucking nuts,” Angelica muttered, and turned her attention to _The Little Mermaid_.

Christmas dinner was going to be at John’s because, as he pointed out fearlessly, neither Alex nor Eliza could cook. They arrived in plenty of time and were met by the usual onslaught of Laurens kids, with Marcy adroitly pulling Peggy out of the way and John yelling from the stairs, “Careful with the pregnant lady!”

Katie and Polly were jumping up and down, Harry needed to ask Gil something about _The Prisoner of Azkaban_ , and then John hugged and kissed them all, and _God_ , it was so good to see them.

“Pregnancy hormones,” Peggy lied, wiping her eyes.

“Nah, you just love me,” John declared, his arm tight around her shoulders. She nodded and fumbled for a tissue. “Hey, who’s staying here and who’s staying with Alex and Eliza? Burr and Teddie are already at their place.”

“Gil and Katie and I are staying here, and Angelica’s staying there,” Peggy told him, “as long as they’ve got room.”

“Yeah, they haven’t filled up the house yet. Did Angelica bring that ginormous fucking suitcase the size of Rhode Island again?” John asked. “Because if she did, I’m glad she’s not staying here. I don’t have an extra room for the suitcase.”

“Very funny,” Angelica said. “I need stuff.”

“Fine,” John told her, “you and your suitcase can have the whole guest room at Alex’s.”

“Do you have a guest room here?” Gil asked a little warily.

“We do,” John said proudly, “and it’s got a bed.”

Peggy giggled. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“It didn’t until yesterday,” Marcy explained. “Yesterday morning, John suddenly realized that we needed to get one.”

“Did anybody remind me?” John protested. “No!”

“Hello, who’s supposed to be the adult here, Mr. Guardian?” Marcy asked, all wide-eyed innocence, and John grabbed her and started tickling her in revenge. Within a minute, the other kids had piled on, and they were all on the floor.

Peggy looked at Gil, smiling. “Remember how scared they were? Who would have thought?”

John yelled, _“Pax!”_ and that must have been some kind of code word, because they all stopped and got up, still laughing, and went back to whatever they’d been doing.

 _“Pax?”_ Angelica asked.

“It’s Latin for ‘peace,’” John told her, brushing off his jeans. “We just kind of use it for breaking up any sort of physical thing. Anybody can yell it when they’ve had enough, and it stops.”

“They all just cooperate, just like that?”

“Yeah,” John shrugged. “We worked it out together, so they’re all good with it.”

“They seem to be doing really well,” Peggy say.

“They are,” John agreed with a proud grin. “They’re all doing great in school, they’ve got friends over all the time, and … hey, Marcy, come tell them.”

Marcy blushed a little, but told them that right before Christmas break, tryouts had been held for the spring play, which was _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_ , and she would be playing the role of Hermia.

“I am little, but I am fierce!” she said proudly, quoting.

“You are amazing!” Peggy told her. “We will come see the play, for sure!”

“Really?”

“Of course!”

Marcy gave her a hug, and took the opportunity to whisper in her ear, “I’m so happy.”

Peggy kissed her cheek, and said, “We’ll have a long talk later.”

Marcy nodded, and ran off because, she said, “I have to double check whatever John did in the kitchen.”

“So unfair to me,” John muttered. “Dinner will be perfect.”

Peggy took his hand. “John, you are doing such a wonderful job with the kids.”

He shook his head. “Do you know how lucky I am? I thought for years that I’d never see them again, and now I get to live with them. They are just the coolest kids ever, so smart, and so amazing, and – God, Sis, I just have so much fun every day that I can’t even believe this is my real life.” He looked off toward the kitchen. “I’d better go check, because if I messed anything up, Marcy will never let me hear the end of it. Alex and Eliza should be here in a few minutes.”

On cue, they walked in the door, with Burr pushing Teddie in a stroller, and the greetings started all over again. Peggy reached out for Teddie as soon as they were in the door, and helped Burr take her jacket off. She was all dressed up in her very first Christmas dress with red velvet bows in her hair, and she looked completely adorable.

Gil asked Alex where his car was so he could transfer Angelica’s suitcase, and Alex told him, “We’re just around the corner, so we walked.”

“Angelica,” Gil called to her across the room, “does your monster suitcase have wheels, or should Alex go rent a truck?”

“It has wheels, duh, you just have to flip the thing on the … never mind, I’ll get it.”

Eliza offered to walk Angelica and the suitcase over to their house, and Gil brought in his family’s bags and took them up to the guest room, which did indeed have a bed, a nice comfortable-looking king size bed, in fact. _Best brother ever,_ Gil thought, noticing that the guest room had an ensuite bath as well.

“Fifteen minute warning,” John yelled from the kitchen, and the kids scattered, Marcy pulling Polly and Katie into the downstairs bathroom to be sure their hands were washed, and Harry and James putting the last minute items on the table.

“Are you paying attention?” Peggy asked Gil. “He has these kids organized like a drill team, and they think it’s all fun.”

“I’m taking notes,” Gil assured her, only half joking.

Eliza and Angelica got back just in time, and John called everyone to the table.

“I went with the Old English theme,” he said, gesturing toward the gigantic rib roast in the middle of the table. It was surrounded by platters of roast potatoes, bowls of green beans and corn, baskets of hot rolls, and little dishes of pickles, olives, and what looked like frosted cranberries.

Alex was staring at the roast. “That’s like, half an ox,” he said.

John looked at it appraisingly. “Yeah, I guess it’s pretty big, but we’re hungry, right? And anyway, who doesn’t love holiday leftovers?” he reached out one hand to each side, and Marcy took his right and Peggy his left. Everyone held hands around the table, and John said grace. _“Te damos gracias, Señor, por esta comida, por esta familia, por la alegría de este día y por todos los regalos que nos das. Que esta comida y este amor nos fortalezcan para servir al mundo en amor y paz. Gracias y amén.”_

He picked up the huge carving knife and went to work on the roast.

“Does anybody in this family pray in English?” Angelica asked casually, staring at the ceiling.

“Do you still speak only one language?” Gil asked her, a look of deepest sympathy on his face.

“Here, Ange, have some corn,” Peggy interrupted, shoving the bowl at her while simultaneously kicking Gil under the table.

Gil laughed, and Peggy warned him, “Don’t you go all French on my sister!”

“I have no idea what you mean by that,” Gil responded, “but I would like some potatoes, please.”

Within minutes all their plates were full, and conversation died down a bit as they ate. John had really outdone himself, and he was beaming as he saw everyone enjoying the meal. “Hey, Peggy, have you got enough there for you and the baby, or would you like some more?” he asked.

“I think I just ate enough for me and triplets,” Peggy told him. “It’s all so good.”

“We all made it,” Harry said proudly. “James and I did the potatoes.”

“Really?” Eliza asked. “They’re delicious.”

“James peeled them, and I cut them up,” Harry explained.

“And then we both put the salt and pepper and butter on them,” James added.

“You guys did a great job,” Alex said. “In fact, I’d like some more.”

Harry happily passed the platter of potatoes.

“I made the cake,” Polly volunteered. “I helped John measure.”

“Just like you used to, Katie,” John reminded her. “Remember when you used to help measure the oatmeal?”

Katie nodded eagerly, her mouth full. She swallowed and said, “When I was little, and we lived by the lake.”

“When she was little,” Peggy murmured to Gil. “She’s only four.”

“But she’s not a baby anymore, is she?” Gil responded. “Kids grow up fast.”

“I’m glad we’re having a baby soon,” Peggy said, “but sometimes I miss baby Katie. Remember _‘Ainsi Font’?”_

 _“Oh, là, là!_ Hours and hours of _‘Ainsi Font’!”_

“We should teach it to Teddie now,” Peggy suggested.

“After dinner,” Gil agreed.

This time next year, their baby would be waving his little hands to _“Ainsi Font,”_ just as Katie had at a year old. It seemed like yesterday, and yet as if a lifetime had passed since then. She looked around the table at her family finishing their Christmas dinner and started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” John asked her.

She waved her hand at the laden table. “I was just thinking,” she giggled.

“About what?”

“Rice and beans.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that Christmas needed its own chapter, and it's still not quite over. I'm just about positive that there will be only two more chapters, but don't bet any actual cash money on it. All these people want me to tell you things about them.  
> Thank you all for continuing to read this very long story!


	65. What I'm Proudest Of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy and Gil try out John's guest room. John shows them an art project. Katie changes her mind about Santa Claus. Marcy and Malik have a date. TJ makes a TV appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next were originally combined as Chapter 65 of this work, but in editing to better align with the prequel "I Like You a Lot," it just became too long and awkward, so it's been split into two chapters. The story hasn't changed, just a few more connections have been made.

 

The early afternoon dinner had given them plenty of time for opening gifts and still getting the kids to bed before it got too late. It had been a wonderful evening, with Teddie crawling excitedly through piles of tissue paper and giggling, Katie, Polly, and James having an enthusiastic game of Candyland, Marcy modeling her new outfit from New York, and Harry diving into his book of Sherlock Holmes stories.

Peggy watched with curiosity when Marcy opened her gift from Malik. It looked like a piece of jewelry of some sort. Marcy blushed and put it back in the box, but she looked happy, and a few minutes later, she showed it to John. John smiled and nodded and said something that made her laugh, and she came over to where Peggy was sitting.

“Look,” she said, holding out the box. It held a small silver disc charm. On one side was engraved First Dance and on the other, the date of Alex and Eliza’s wedding. The accompanying note said “The first charm for the charm bracelet I will get you someday. Love, Malik.”

“Wow,” was all Peggy could say.

Marcy smiled. “It’s nice, isn’t it? I can wear it on a ribbon for now.”

“Mm-hm.”

Marcy looked directly at her. “We know we’re young,” she said.

Peggy put an arm around her and pulled her in. “Sweetie, I am so the wrong person to talk to about it.”

“Because you were young when you fell in love?”

“Yeah. Older than you, though.”

“I’m fifteen now,” Marcy reminded her. “John says he was there the night you and Gil fell in love.”

Peggy looked across the room at John sitting on the floor playing with Teddie, but watching her and Marcy. He winked at her.

“Yeah, he was. Everybody was there. It was just … I wish I could explain it. I always thought that love-at-first-sight-stuff was silly.”

“Until you met Gil.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re still in love.”

“More every day.” How else could she answer? “But please don’t take that as any sort of testimony or endorsement,” Peggy continued. “I would never try to predict how things are going to go for you and Malik.”

“I know,” Marcy said. “We had a long talk with John.”

“Both of you?”

“Facetime. We’re taking things slowly.”

“Okay.” _It may not be a bad thing that they live more than a hundred miles apart,_ she thought. She looked up and realized John was standing there. He smiled at her and sat down on the floor.

“Kids these days, right?” he asked, laughing and ruffling Marcy’s hair.

“You know I don’t have any answers,” Peggy reminded him.

“Nobody’s got answers. We just – what?” he asked, turning to Marcy.

“Take it one day at a time, be honest, and see where it goes,” she recited.

“Good advice, I think,” Peggy said.

“John never yells about stuff,” Marcy told Peggy, suddenly sounding like a kid again. “You can tell him _anything_ , and he just talks about it like you’re a normal human being.”

“One of John’s many gifts,” Peggy agreed, “is treating everybody with respect.”

Marcy nodded, then turned to John. “Can I ask her now?”

“Ask me what?”

“If I can go back to Philly with you for a few days? I can get the train back here.”

“I got a couple of tickets for _Les Mis_ at the Academy of Music for Thursday,” John said. “I thought Marcy and Malik might be able to use them.”

“So you’re aiding and abetting?” Peggy asked him.

John grinned at her. “Love is love,” he said.

* * * * *

John’s guest room didn’t have a double shower, but it did have a tub with a shower, so there was plenty of room for two people. Gil was helping Peggy take a shower, since it was hard for her to bend over and reach her feet, he reminded her. He stood close behind her, and she leaned against him while he slowly and gently washed her breasts and belly.

“I don’t really have any trouble reaching there,” she reminded him.

“But you’re tired, _chérie, non?_ I’m saving you the work of having to wash yourself.”

“Mm, I appreciate that.” She opened her legs a little so that he could wash between them and sighed with pleasure as his soapy, slippery hands moved everywhere. She leaned her head back, and he kissed her throat.

“We should stop now,” Gil said, “because John’s bathtub does not have all the features of our shower at home.”

“We’ll have to talk to him about that.”

“Indeed. But for now …” They stood together under the warm water for a few minutes, then carefully got out of the tub and wrapped up in soft towels.

Peggy stood still while Gil dried her, not because she really needed his help, but because he enjoyed it so much. She was well aware that not all men found their wives to be sexy in the last months of pregnancy, but Gil seemed to be more attracted to her the further along she got. When she was dry, he picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her down on the snowy white sheets.

“It’s really not too far for me to walk,” she said, gesturing at the fifteen-foot distance from the bed to the bathroom.

“I like to carry you,” he told her. Her curls were spread out on the pillow, and she was smiling at him, and she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He stroked her breasts, playing with her nipples and listening to the little whimpering noises that she made. The knowledge that he could give her pleasure filled him with delight.

“You make me feel so good,” she told him, as if reading his mind.

He rested his hand lightly on her belly, where the baby was being very active. “I think he is dancing,” he said.

“Mm. That’s fine now, but when he dances at three in the morning, it’s inconvenient.”

“You know,” he said, kissing the baby bump, “I love this baby very much, but he does cause some inconvenience.”

She laughed. “He needs to understand that his parents are in charge.”

Gil wrapped his arms around her and helped her turn on her side. _“Viens, chérie,”_ he whispered. He slid a pillow under her knee to make her more comfortable, and then pressed against her so that she could feel how hard he was. One arm was under her, so that he could caress her breast. The other was over her hip, and his hand was between her legs, his finger inside her, sliding in her wetness. It felt wonderful.

“Are you okay with this?” he asked her.

“Oh, yes,” she breathed, “What …?”

“It’s a little less inconvenient.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

They had always made love face-to-face, so this was different, but at this point in her pregnancy, maybe a new position would be, as Gil suggested, less inconvenient. He was kissing her neck, and she instinctively pushed her hips back and up. His wet fingers started moving on her, pressing and circling, and then she felt him sliding back and forth, teasing her because he knew she wanted him inside her.

_“Tu veux, chérie?”_ he whispered.

_“S’il te plait.”_

_“Impatiente?”_

_“Oui._ Please don’t make me wait.”

“But doesn’t the waiting feel good?”

“Oh, God, yes.”

“Just a little more, then,” he said, and kept doing what he was doing. With him behind her, she couldn’t see what he was doing, and not knowing what he would do next drove up her anticipation. She felt him pull back, and then his hand moved up the inside of her thigh, lifting it to make room for him. He entered her slowly, and maintained the tension by keeping her legs apart as she tried to adjust to the unaccustomed angle that provided more friction than their usual positions. He pushed all the way in, and she tightened around him, but as he moved, she realized that it was different like this, unfamiliar and exciting. He brought his arm back around her hip, and flicked just one finger, soft and fast, and her breathing quickened. She pushed her hips back toward him, and he pressed his mouth against her shoulder, his teeth just scraping her skin. His arms tightened, and he moved faster. She was caught between his thrusts from behind and the flicking movement of his hand in front, and she felt her hips start to jerk as if she was losing control. She tried to catch her breath as she clamped down on him, and then everything turned into a kaleidoscope with wave after wave pounding through her and lifting her, so that he had to hold her in place. She finally fell against him and he rolled onto his back so that she lay on top of him, his arms still around her, his mouth on her neck, both of them gasping.

She slid off him and lay next to him and got control of her breathing. “That was …”

He laughed and propped himself up on one elbow. “Exceptional?”

She tangled her hand in his curls and pulled his face down, and he laughed again, his mouth against hers. _“Oh, ma belle, tu m’éblouis.”_

“Did you know how well that would work?” she asked, her voice finally steady.

“I’m studying to be a doctor, you know. I understand anatomy.” He was pretending to be serious.

“Oh, right, anatomy. You’ve studied anatomy quite a lot, haven’t you?”

“I am very studious.”

She laughed. “We should do it again sometime,” she said.

_“Mm, je suis d’accord.”_ He lay back down and examined the ceiling. “Did you notice whose bedroom is next to this one?”

“John’s,” she told him. “The kids’ rooms are downstairs. Why?”

“John may have heard something.”

Peggy felt the blush sweep up over her face. “Oh, no. I didn’t even realize …”

_“Évidemment.”_

She poked him with her elbow. “Don’t laugh at me. Anyway, maybe John will be polite and tactful and not mention it.”

That made him laugh harder. “You’re kidding, right?”

* * * * *

Gil had been absolutely right. John greeted them at breakfast with a smirk and a knowing look. They were saved from any specific remarks by the presence of the children, and Peggy hoped that John would forget all about it.

He didn’t, of course. They all ate breakfast, and then the kids went off to play with their new toys or call their friends, and John, Peggy, and Gil sat at the table having more coffee.

“So I assume the new bed is comfortable,” John commented casually, stirring his coffee.

“Very,” Gil replied, grinning.

Peggy gave all her attention to spreading strawberry jam on a piece of toast.

“And sturdy,” John continued.

_“Heureusement,”_ Gil agreed.

“I’m just glad you kids had a good time,” John said, abandoning pretense.

“A very good time,” Gil told him.

Peggy’s face was scarlet by now, and she still hadn’t looked up. She took a tiny bite of toast.

“Hey, Sis,” John said, scooting his chair closer to hers, “there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Mm,” Peggy murmured, chewing her toast and trying not to laugh.

“I wasn’t kidding,” he went on. “How can I not be happy that two of the people I love the most had amazing, mind-blowing sex in my guest room? You’re the first people to use that room, so what could be better? I just hope that everyone who ever stays there has as good an experience.”

Peggy folded her arms on the table and put her head down, overcome. “I can’t believe you just said that,” she wailed.

Gil was almost falling off his chair laughing. “Next time we come here …” he began.

“We are never coming back,” Peggy declared, her voice muffled.

“Yes, you are,” John declared.

“Of course we are,” Gil told her, “Because the bed is so comfortable.”

He high-fived John, and that was too much for Peggy. She laughed until she was wiping tears from her eyes, still bright red from embarrassment.

“Hey,” John said, handing her another tissue, “we all lived in an eight hundred square foot cabin for years. Do you think you have any secrets from me?”

“Obviously not,” Peggy gasped, still trying to recover. “You guys shouldn’t gang up on me like that.”

“Your husband’s so proud of himself,” John said with a sideways look at Gil, who started laughing again.

“The two of you together are totally out of control. Didn’t the same thing happen at the wedding?”

“Oh, you mean when John taught me the expression ‘eye-fucking’?” Gil inquired, and that set them all off again.

Peggy wiped her eyes again, and then sniffled.

_“Ça va, chérie?”_ Gil asked, suddenly concerned.

She nodded, still teary-eyed. “It’s just that I love you both so much, and it’s Christmas, and we’re safe and together, and I’m so happy. For the longest time I was scared, and John kept getting shot, and I was afraid this would never happen.”

“I’m fine,” John reminded her, and she brushed her hand along the thin scar that traversed his forehead.

“Yeah, you are. Every once in a while, I have to pinch myself to be sure it’s all real.”

“Listen,” John continued, “I want to show you guys something. Alex and everybody are coming over for lunch to help eat the leftovers, so I want to take you up to my studio while we have time.”

The studio was on the fourth floor of the townhouse. The front wall, which faced north, was mostly windows, and the space was flooded with light. There were projects in various stages of completion around the room.

“You remember I said I was working on a collage?” John reminded them. “A collage about the insurrection?”

“Yeah, you were using some of the old fake ID’s in it, right?” Gil asked.

John nodded. “I ended up doing a series,” he said, and gestured to where a row of collages, each one about sixteen by twenty inches, were lined up on a long table. The background of each was a strong color – blood red, sapphire blue, leaf green, dandelion yellow – painted on what looked like old fence boards, the colors dulled a bit by a transparent gray wash. All sorts of materials had been used. Newspapers, posters, and photographs had been applied wet and varnished, so that they took on the wood grain of the boards. There were leaves and twigs, bits of fabric, some gold braid from a Greater’s uniform, and what looked like a bloody bandage. Ravaged faces and lists of names were everywhere. John had distilled all the pain and struggle of the Insurrection into colors and shapes and textures. The collages were heartbreaking and dark and profoundly disturbing.

“My God, John,” Gil said, his voice stunned.

Peggy felt her throat go tight, and she grabbed Gil’s hand.

John sat down on a stool and faced them seriously. “It’s something I had to say.”

Gil nodded. “Yeah, somebody had to tell about it. But I can see it was …”

“Painful?” John’s face showed lines they’d never seen before.

“John, you had to relive everything to create these,” Peggy said. “It must have been agonizing.”

“Some of it was. I wouldn’t do it again.”

“But you did it because the story had to be told.”

“Yeah.”

Gil spoke tentatively. “These are – I don’t know what word to use – important, I think. People should see them.”

“That’s what I wanted to tell you,” John said. “I’m going to have a gallery show in February. It’s called ‘Insurrection: Faces and Fragments.’ The gallery people are telling me these are good.”

“You already knew that, though, right?” Peggy asked.

“Yeah, I know when my work is good. I make a lot of really bad shit, too, but I don’t show that to anybody.” He finally smiled. “There’s probably going to be stuff in the newspaper about the show and all. You want to come to the opening?”

“We’ll think about it,” Gil said, and then cuffed John lightly on the side of the head. “Of course we’ll be there, idiot!”

John took a last somber look at the collages as they left the studio. “They gave me nightmares,” he said softly as they went down the stairs.

Alex and everybody else showed up around noon, and, as John had promised, there were leftovers for lunch. He unloaded the fridge onto the kitchen table and pointed at things.

“Microwave there. Carving knife and silverware in that drawer. Bread and rolls over there if you want to make sandwiches. Juice and milk in the fridge, feel free to make tea or coffee.”

“Paper plates,” Marcy announced, putting a stack on the table.

They nibbled on cold roast beef sandwiches, and Alex caught them up on the news.

“So if anybody was wondering about TJ,” he began, and then took a huge bite of sandwich just to make them wait.

“Drama,” Eliza murmured into her tea cup.

Alex swallowed. “TJ and Maddie came back from their honeymoon, which was really an opportunity to hide out from the press for a week, and are now staying at TJ’s family place out by Charlottesville.”

“They’re not even here getting his office set up or hiring staff?” Angelica asked.

“Nope, even though there’s less than a month before he actually has to go to work. Odds are, though,” Alex added, trying to be fair, “he’s already got most of that done.”

“And what about this poor girl with the kids?” Peggy asked.

“Well, the word is – and of course, I have no official information – that she will receive a sincere and public apology from TJ and a very large sum of money from TJ’s family. Then she will move to a nice house in another state and not bother anybody.”

“Oh, my God, that’s terrible!” Peggy was outraged.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Angelica put in. “Her kids will be taken care of and she’ll have a fresh start.”

“And TJ gets off with ‘Oh, gee, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.’ Really? How is that okay?”

“TJ won’t get off,” Alex pointed out. “This will haunt him for the rest of his political career, assuming he even has a political career after this term.”

“What about Maddie, though?” Eliza asked. “I don’t understand how such a smart girl could marry him under these circumstances. If she married him before the story came out, okay, I get it, or if she married him sometime down the road after this was off the front page, maybe. But right in the middle of it? Why?”

“To protect him, maybe,” Burr said. As usual, he had been observing more than talking. “To tell people that he was a good guy even at his worst.”

Angelica blew out a breath. “You’re probably right, but I just can’t imagine doing that.”

“You’re not much like Maddie,” Gil reminded her.

“So – entirely unofficially, of course – when can we expect to see TJ groveling apologetically on TV?” John inquired, obviously looking forward to that particular broadcast.

Alex thought for a minute. “I’d say, unofficially, the first week in January, so there’s time for it to die down before the inauguration. Maybe around January third, in the morning, on an all-news network. Not that I know for sure.”

“I’ll set the DVR,” John said.

It was hard to leave in the afternoon, but they were going to have Marcy with them for a few days, and they knew they would see each other at the inauguration. “Provided the baby cooperates,” Peggy kept saying. When they got home, Katie puzzled them all by carefully examining the living room, searching behind the Christmas tree and under chairs.

“Katie-boo, what are you doing?” Peggy asked.

“Looking,” Katie replied, stating the obvious.

“Looking for what?”

“Santa didn’t come here.” Katie said.

“Right,” Peggy agreed. “You said you didn’t like him and you didn’t want him to come here.”

“He came to Polly’s house,” Katie told her. “He brought toys.”

“Yes, he did,” Marcy said, “But remember Polly and James and Harry and I like Santa, and we wanted him to come.”

“I like him now,” Katie declared firmly. “Can he come here?”

Peggy rolled her eyes and Marcy and Angelica burst out laughing. Gil picked Katie up and spun her around until she giggled. _“Ma petite,_ I promise you that next Christmas Santa will come here and he will bring you extra toys to make up for this year.”

“Okay,” Katie agreed. “Me and Marcy are going to show Delphine my purple socks now.” She grabbed Marcy’s hand, and they ran off to find Delphine.

“So Santa’s coming next year,” Angelica said.

Gil turned to Peggy. “Do you think they will all be this confusing?” he asked with genuine interest.

Angelica took the train back to New York the next day so that she would have plenty of time to pack for her ski trip to New Hampshire. The day after that, Marcy and Malik had their tickets to see _Les Mis_ , and Marcy wanted advice on what to wear.

“You should have asked Angelica,” Peggy told her. “I’m a jeans and tee shirt girl. Actually … we should ask Gil.”

“Really?”

“He’s better at fashion than I am. He had to go to lots of fancy parties when he was a kid.”

They found Gil in his office studying, his steel-rimmed glasses on and a couple of pencils stuck in his hair.

“Do people still dress up to go to the theater?” Peggy asked him.

“The Academy of Music? I think so. Besides, it’s the first holiday season since the end of the insurrection and people are celebrating.”

“Well, come upstairs with us because Marcy needs help picking out an outfit.”

“Help from me?”

“You know I’m hopeless.”

_“Mais non, chérie, tu es toujours belle.”_

“Mm, because you help pick out my clothes.”

Gil shrugged and followed them upstairs. Marcy had brought several outfits to choose from, and Gil unhesitatingly pointed to a jade green dress with a narrow gold chain belt. “Do you have gold jewelry to go with it?”

“I have gold earrings,” she told him, in awe of his expertise.

Gil looked at Peggy. “She will need a gold necklace as well.”

“No problem,” Peggy said. Gil had been buying her jewelry at least weekly since Tom McKean had gotten his trust fund straightened out. “ _Merci, chéri,”_ she added, standing on tiptoe to kiss him, and he went back downstairs to study some more. His classes started the first week in January.

Malik had been in and out a lot since Marcy arrived, and they had spent time together, but this was their first real date. Gil was to drive them into center city for the show, and Oumar would pick them up when it was over. Malik showed up in a suit and tie, and the two of them, Peggy told Eliza later, could have modeled for Teen Vogue. The next morning, Malik came over after breakfast, and they sat at the table with Peggy and Gil, drinking coffee and talking about the show.

“It’s so good,” Marcy said. “I cried a lot.”

“What was your favorite part?” Gil asked, genuinely interested.

She thought for a minute. “When Jean Valjean finally rescued Cosette. It was such a relief that she was going to be safe.”

Not a surprising choice for someone who had herself been rescued in the midst of a war.

“Malik? How about you? What did you like?”

He took a sip of coffee and hesitated. “The whole thing is great, of course. It’s a fantastic story, but I think the most important scene is when the bishop gives Jean Valjean the silver.”

“Really?” Marcy asked. “More important than the battle at the barricade?”

“Mm-hm,” Malik responded, nodding, “because without that, nothing else happens. That’s the impetus that converts Jean Valjean from a bitter convict to a good man. From that point on, the bishop is his role model, and that affects everything he does.”

Peggy looked at Gil over Marcy’s head. _“Impetus?_ ” she mouthed. Gil shrugged.

“You’re right,” Marcy said to Malik. “If that hadn’t happened, he wouldn’t have saved Fantine, so he wouldn’t even know about Cosette.”

“Exactly,” Malik agreed. He looked up, a little embarrassed. “I write … well, I want to write, so I pay attention to things like characters’ motivations. I want to write plays.”

“Are you writing anything now?” Gil asked.

“Yeah,” Malik said with a grin. “I’m always writing something.”

“He’s really good,” Marcy added.

“She might be biased,” Malik told Gil, man-to-man.

“I’d like to read something you’ve written,” Gil said.

“Okay, sure, I’ll bring something over later.”

Over the next few days, Gil read some of Malik’s works-in-progress. “He really is good,” he told Peggy. “Hard to believe he’s only fifteen.”

“I’d already noticed he was exceptionally good with words,” Peggy agreed, her eyebrow up.

“Yes, you said he reminded you of me in that way,” Gil smiled.

“Mm-hm.”

“ _Sérieusement, chérie,_ he writes better than I could now. He might well be able to make a career out of his writing.”

“I’m glad he’s good at it then,” Peggy said. “I hope it works out for him.”

Marcy went home on the day before New Year’s Eve, and Peggy and Gil had already decided to stay in for the last night of the year. “I fall asleep at nine o’clock anyway,” Peggy yawned. On New Year’s Day, Gil told Peggy about a Chinese tradition that he was familiar with. “In China, they say you should choose carefully what you do on New Year’s Day because it sets the tone for the whole year. If you quarrel with a friend, for example, your whole year will be filled with quarrels. If you study, then you will have academic success throughout the year, and so on.”

“So are you going to spend the day studying to guarantee high achievement in medical school?” she asked.

“Oh, no,” he replied, taking her in his arms. “That wasn’t at all what I had in mind.”

On January third, as Alex had unofficially predicted, TJ appeared on national television news, serious and contrite, with Maddie by his side. He spoke sincerely about his “youthful mistakes,” with just the right amount of embarrassed emotion to touch most of the audience. He made it clear that he would always provide for his children with Sasha, and that he was eager to maintain a relationship with them.

“Well, you know that’s bullshit,” said Angelica, on the phone with Peggy as they watched the interview.

Maddie added a few words of her own in her soft voice after TJ was done. She explained that the recent revelation of TJ’s past had put a strain on their relationship, but that it was stronger now than it had ever been. TJ, according to both Maddie and himself, was eager to take his seat in the House and serve the citizens of Virginia.

John made gagging noises over Gil’s phone, which was set on speaker and sitting on the kitchen table. “What an asshole,” he added.

“Maybe he’ll do a good job in Congress and surprise us all,” Peggy said optimistically.

They all laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, moving chapters around deletes all comments, so if you said anything before or would like to say anything now, It would make me very happy to hear from you. Thank you so much for reading this!


	66. A Winter's Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new President is sworn in. The squad attends the Inaugural Ball, where a couple of surprising events occur. The chapter probably ends the way you think it will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the previous one were originally one chapter, but as I edited it to better align with the prequel, "I Like You a Lot," it was just too long, so I split it into two. The story hasn't changed, but a few connections have been clarified.

Peggy was now seeing her obstetrician once a week since she was in her last month of pregnancy. The week before the inauguration, Dr. Marino didn’t see any signs that the baby’s arrival was imminent, and Peggy began to get her hopes up.

“Look,” Dr. Marino said, “Your husband can do an exam the day before and see if you’ve started to dilate, right?” he looked at Gil, who nodded. “So if you haven’t, go, enjoy the inauguration. Dance at the ball. Your baby’s not due until a few days afterward anyway.”

They tentatively arranged to drive down on Friday the nineteenth and stay at John’s until Sunday. There were a variety of inauguration activities all day Saturday, from concerts to speeches, but nothing for children, so they decided that Katie would stay at home with Delphine. Early on Friday morning, Gil performed a very clinical exam, which had Peggy in fits of giggles, and Gil actually feeling embarrassed.

“You are my wife,” he reminded her. “This is a very strange way to be touching you.”

That set Peggy off in more giggles, but when the exam was over, Gil told her that everything was status quo, and it didn’t look like the baby was going to arrive within the next couple of days. Peggy texted everybody that they were on their way, and Gil loaded the car. “I’m taking your hospital bag,” he said, “just in case.”

“Don’t jinx us!” she told him. She looked down and spoke to the baby. “Thank you for cooperating! This will probably be my only chance to go to the Inaugural Ball.”

“Already, our baby is showing us how thoughtful he is,” Gil commented proudly as he helped Peggy into the car.

They had to stop twice on the three hour drive for Peggy to use the bathroom, but they arrived at John’s in time for dinner. “Hey,” John said, hugging her. “You about ready for the kid to get here?”

She nodded. “Yeah, he keeps jumping on my bladder, and it’s hard to sleep. I remember Desi saying the same thing.”

“It’s a good thing women are the ones who have the babies,” John told her, “because if guys had to do half the shit that you do, the human race would have been extinct by now.”

She laughed. “You could be right. He’ll be here soon, though, probably about another week. In the meantime, I’ll put up with it. And tomorrow night, we’ll all go to the ball.”

Peggy had decided not to attend the inauguration itself in person so that she could rest, but everyone else went. Alex and Eliza had seats with Frank Marion and the rest of the President’s incoming staff, along with some incoming members of Congress like Crazy Tony. TJ, Alex noticed, was not seated anywhere near the front, and he probably only merited West Front seating at all because he was a veteran of the Movement. John, Gil, Angelica, Herc, and Burr were seated with other veterans like Jack Sullivan, who was being excessively formal with Angelica, and the rest of Tony’s squad. The benediction was given by the Reverend Timothy Dwight, Commander of the Army Corps of Chaplains, and then the combined choirs of several local high schools sang a medley of traditional patriotic songs. The President took the oath of office in a clear steady voice, and gave an inaugural address that spoke of hope and prosperity.

Peggy, watching the whole ceremony on TV with the Laurens kids and Teddie, found herself in tears as soon as the President began, “I, Zain Akhdir, do solemnly swear …” Marcy got her a box of tissues, and asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Peggy said, “just emotional. Part pregnancy hormones, part looking back on what it took to get us here.”

Marcy had only been involved with the Movement for its last few months, but she understood. She had risked running with messages when she could have been arrested for it, and she had grieved with all of them when Desi died. “You were in it for three years, weren’t you?” she said now.

Peggy nodded. “And everybody else for five. I don’t want to forget how hard it was.”

Marcy gave her a hug. “I promised Gil that I’d make you take a nap, so go to bed.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay with all the kids?”

“Of course. The only one who really needs watching is Teddie, and she just went to sleep. Everybody will probably be back before she even wakes up.”

The others were attending a luncheon, and then would return to get some rest before it was time to get ready for the ball.

“Are you excited to go to the ball?” Marcy asked.

“So excited. I missed my Prom, you know, so this should make up for it.”

Marcy sent her off to bed, and she had to admit, she was tired. There just wasn’t a comfortable sleeping position any more. She kicked off her shoes and stretched out on the bed and was able to doze for a little while before the baby kicked her bladder energetically for about the twentieth time that day. Gil came in at three o’clock and lay down next to her, stroking her hair and rubbing her back.

“That feels good, _chéri,”_ she told him. “Three hours sitting in a car yesterday didn’t help my back.”

 _“Mon pauvre petit mouton,”_ he murmured, kissing the back of her neck. “I wish I could help more.”

“You help so much.” She turned so he could kiss her. “We’ll have to start getting ready soon.”

The ball was at seven, and John had hired limos to arrive at six-thirty. Peggy had decided to do her own hair and make-up, so she needed at least an hour to get ready. Gil hovered, and she finally sent him downstairs so she could concentrate on getting her hair right. He had, of course, given her all new jewelry for the occasion, a hair clip, necklace, and earrings, all with diamonds and topazes in yellow gold. She pulled her hair up in the clip and smiled. It was perfect, her curls cascading from the sparkling jeweled band. The earrings dangled and glittered, and the elaborate necklace with its scrolls and swirls was absolutely gorgeous. She called for help to zip up her gown, and she was ready. The way Gil’s eyes lit up when he saw her made her feel beautiful, even nine months pregnant and having to wear flat shoes so she didn’t lose her balance. John sent them out to the limo and had a last word with Mrs. Harrison, a retired teacher neighbor who was staying with the kids.

Gil and John were both in tuxes, of course, but John had accessorized his with bright green socks and new white sneakers. He looked at Gil’s highly polished, elegant black oxfords and snickered. “Nice shoes, grandpa. I want some just like that when I grow up.”

Gil raised an eyebrow. “ _If_ you ever grow up, Peter Pan.”

“Peggy, you going to let him make fun of me like that?”

Peggy’s eyes were sparkling as much as her diamonds. “Yes, I think so,” she said, leaning on Gil’s shoulder. “We’re going to the Inaugural Ball, so you guys can insult each other all you like, and I’m going to have fun.”

Students from the military academies were acting as valets and assistants at the ball, so a kid in uniform held out his arm to help Peggy up the flight of stone steps to the door. They entered a huge foyer, and then went on into the ballroom itself, lined with marble columns and lit by crystal chandeliers. “Even better than our ballroom at home,” Gil commented, surveying the chandeliers critically.

Peggy laughed. “Please don’t tell me you think we should keep up with the national government.”

“I won’t tell you anything except that I want to dance with you.”

There were already couples out on the dance floor, and they saw Angelica in a vivid cerise gown dancing with Jack Sullivan. Alex and Eliza were seated at one of the small tables sipping champagne, Eliza looking beautiful in a powder blue vintage style gown with rhinestones scattered over the skirt. Peggy and Gil joined them while John went to find some champagne for himself.

Across the room, TJ and Maddie were seated with another couple that Peggy didn’t recognize. She asked who they were.

“It’s Ned and Beth Randolph,” John told her. “I’ve known Ned forever, so I’m going to have to go over there and say hello.”

“Better you than me,” Alex said. “Just try not to punch TJ.”

“I’ll keep the conversation brief,” John responded with a sigh. “Let’s get it over with.”

They watched John cross to TJ’s table and exchange a few words with TJ and Maddie before he turned to the Randolphs with a warm smile. He chatted with them for a few minutes and then returned.

“TJ says hi, everybody,” he announced.

“I hope that’s all he says,” Alex muttered.

 “Please,” Eliza said, “no more about TJ.”

But John didn’t hear her. His attention was focused on a tall young man who had just come into the room. Peggy could see nothing about him that would make John look like he’d seen a ghost.

“Alex, Gil,” he said urgently, gesturing in the direction of the newcomer. “Who does that look like?”

Alex’s gaze followed John’s hand, and his jaw dropped. “Holy shit!” he gasped. “That’s Danny Phoenix!”

John was out of his seat and sprinting across the room before anybody got another word out, with Alex and Gil right behind him.

Peggy turned to Eliza and saw that her eyes were full of tears. “Who’s Danny Phoenix?” she asked.

Eliza took a dainty handkerchief out of her purse. “I knew I’d need this,” she murmured, blotting her face carefully to try to preserve her make-up. “Danny was with us in the first insurrection. He was a kid, really, only fifteen when he started hanging around learning how to forge documents from John, but he was really smart and ended up being our go-to guy on electronic surveillance.” She paused and swallowed hard. Peggy looked across the room, where it seemed like all four of them were talking at once, John with his arm around the guy’s shoulders, grinning ear to ear.

“Where’s he been?” Peggy asked.

“France. Gil got him out …”

“Why didn’t Gil ever talk about him?”

They looked up as Angelica, catching sight of the gathering, shrieked, “ _Danny!”_ She pulled her skirt up and dashed across the room, high heels and all.

Eliza gulped down a sob, and reached for Peggy’s hand. “Some things were so bad, it hurts too much to talk about them,” she said. “When Nat Hale was killed … ah, damn, they’re coming over here. I’ll tell you another time. Tonight’s a happy night.”

Peggy nodded and looked up with a smile as Gil approached the table with the others. He put his hand on her shoulder and said proudly to Danny, “This is my wife, Peggy.”

Danny looked from Gil to her, and then to Eliza, and his face broke into a grin. “Gil, you dog, you married the other Schuyler sister. What was she, about twelve?”

Gil looked horrified. “She was seventeen! She was nineteen when we got married!”

John laughed. “Gil, it’s _Danny.”_

Gil, realizing Danny had set him up, shook his head and punched Danny in the arm, laughing. “ _Connard!”_

_“Vraiment? Je reviens de passer quatre années en France. Tu crois que je n’ai rien appris?”_

“Oh, shit, you speak French,” Alex said.

Danny gave Alex a pitying look. “You always underestimated me.”

John was almost doubled over laughing at Alex’s face. “Am I the only one who remembers what this kid was like?”

“Kid?” Danny asked, insulted. “My ID says I’m twenty-five.”

John grinned. “You’re the same age as Gil.”

“Good, so I’m old enough to be married, just like he is.”

Everybody got serious very quickly.

“Who?” John asked.

“You know her,” Danny said. “She goes by Martine now, but she was Patty a long time ago.”

Angelica grabbed his arm. “Is she here?”

Danny shook his head. “No, she couldn’t fly with the baby due in a couple of weeks. I’m just here for a few days myself …”

He couldn’t finish the sentence because they were all talking at once.

“You’re going to be a father?” Alex asked.

Danny was smiling. Alex had asked the question, but he looked past Alex directly at John. “To all intents and purposes, I’ve been a father for nearly four years. We already have a little boy.”

For reasons Peggy didn’t understand, everybody was crying.

Danny held out his hand and John gripped it. “We named him Gabriel, John,” Danny said. “For the angel. Gabriel Nathan Félice.”

John threw his arms around him and held on tight.

Peggy looked at Eliza, but she was crying too, having given up on the idea of salvaging her make-up. She smiled at Peggy though her tears. “It’s good news, Peg, don’t worry. It’s really good news.”

Peggy watched while they all hugged Danny, congratulating him on his marriage and his children.

“I’m just here for an hour or so to see you guys, and then I’m driving to Tim’s so I can spend tomorrow with him and Maya,” he said after things quieted down a little. “I haven’t had a chance to meet her yet.”

“He’s going to stay in the Army?” Alex asked.

“Yep, working on establishing a chaplain corps for all the military branches. Still trying to make the world a better place.”

“He’s a good guy,” John said.

“One of the best,” Danny agreed. He turned to Gil. “My wife says you and she used to talk about love sometimes.”

Gil nodded, his eyes serious.

“She gave me a message for you.”

“Okay …”

“She said you were right, and that it can happen more than once.”

Gil smiled. “Tell her that I know I was right. Tell her I’m married. She’ll know what that means.”

“Doesn’t sound that complicated to me, but if you and my wife want to send messages to each other, fine.”  He looked around at the faces of those he had known so well. “We’ll come back sometime, Martine and I, and the kids, now that it’s safe. She’d love to see you.”

“And we’ll be in France before too long,” Gil told him. “I want to see Julien, and thank him for everything he did. Maybe next summer. Maybe our children will play together.”

Danny nodded and looked down at Peggy, still sitting there understanding very little of what was going on. “All right if I dance with your wife, Gil?” he asked.

Gil looked at Peggy; she nodded, and Danny took her onto the dance floor. “I went away nearly four years ago,” he said conversationally. “I’d been arrested for murder, which I didn’t do, and I was in prison. Alex somehow made a case to the General that the Movement needed me, and your husband and his friends broke me out of jail. John forged me a passport, and I left the country with the Ambassador and the last few attachés from the French Embassy. I did what I could to help the Movement from France.”

Peggy’s eyes widened. “The guns! Did you have something to do with getting us the arms we needed?”

Danny smiled. “I may have.”

“And your wife? Everybody knows her, too, it seems like.”

“Have you heard of Nat Hale?”

Peggy nodded. “I know he was killed, and that it was really bad. I don’t know much else because it seems like it’s so hard for everyone to talk about.”

“Yeah, it would be. Nat was – Nat was a really good guy. He was engaged to a girl named Patty Manning, and he was killed two weeks before their wedding date. Then the Greaters came after her, and Gil changed her name to Martine and got her to France.”

“To his cousin Julien?”

Danny nodded. “Six months later, they broke me out of jail, and I went to France on the last plane to Paris after they closed the embassy. I went to Julien too, and not long after that, Martine had the baby – Nat’s baby. And then, well, you know what Gil says: if you’re lucky enough to find love, you take it where you find it. Martine and I were lucky enough to find it together.”

Peggy smiled. “And you’re raising the little boy.”

“Yeah. He calls me papa, but he knows he had another papa first, and that his first papa lives in heaven with the angel that he’s named for.” He laughed. “Tim will probably tell me that it’s a theological disaster, but our little guy seems happy with it.”

“You’re going to stay in France?”

“I think so. Now that the government has been restored here, we’ll have to think about it, but Chavaniac feels like home. Although maybe I should check with Gil on that, because it’s actually his house we’ve been living in.”

“The castle, you mean?”

“Yeah, the castle.” He shook his head as if in disbelief and looked over his shoulder at Gil and John. “It was a long time ago, and a lot of what we all lived through was really hard and really sad, but they saved my life. All of them were family to me.”

“I know how lucky we are,” she told him as the music ended.

“You’ll come to France soon, right?”

“I hope so. Gil wants to see Julien and show me where he grew up.”

Danny kissed her cheek lightly. “Tell Gil I think he’s a lucky man.”

They went back to the table, and Danny dragged over a chair to sit with them for a few minutes, inevitably pulling out his phone to show them pictures of a little boy with blond hair and blue eyes.

“Oh, my God, he looks exactly like Nat!” Angelica exclaimed. She smiled at Danny. “He’s adorable.”

“He is. He’s a lot of fun.” He held out his hand. “Dance? I can’t stay, but I want to dance with you and Eliza before I go.”

As they went onto the dance floor, Peggy turned to Gil. “He seems like a really good guy.”

Gil nodded. “Maybe later, when we have hours of time, I’ll tell you all about Danny Phoenix.” He looked across the table at John, whose eyes were following Danny and Angelica around the dance floor. “I think now that Danny has grown up, he is probably exactly like John.”

John heard that, and turned to look at Gil, his eyes still bright with tears. “I was afraid I’d never see him again.”

Gil smiled. “We have so much to celebrate tonight.”

Danny danced with Eliza next, and then John, Gil, Alex, and Herc walked him out so he could go visit Tim Dwight, whose name Peggy recognized as the chaplain who had given the benediction at President Akhdir’s inauguration. She wondered, as she sat there with Angelica and Eliza, how many other people whose names she didn’t even know had fought in the Movement before she had anything to do with it. Tonight wasn’t a night for questions, though. Tonight was a night to enjoy the success that their hardship and sacrifice had brought about.

The guys came back into the ballroom, and conversation returned to normal.

Peggy looked out onto the dance floor and saw Molly, stunning in black satin, dancing with Burr.

“We all clean up nice, don’t we?” she asked with a smile.

Alex laughed. All the highlights had grown out of his hair, and he had it professionally cut now, maybe a little longer than most guys, but the shoulder-length hair and the dark stubble were gone forever. He looked like exactly what he was, a young up-and-coming government official. “I have to admit,” he said, “when I looked ahead, I never thought about this kind of thing.”

“I like it, though,” Eliza told him. “Tonight, a celebration is in order.”

A waiter came to their table with a tray of champagne and handed out the glasses to them all, except for Peggy, who got club soda. Alex stood up and raised his glass. For once, there was no speech, just a few words. “To our bright future,” he said, and they all drank to it.

The orchestra struck up “Unforgettable,” and Gil held out his hand to Peggy. They stood up, and John said, “Hey, Gil, we’re at a government function. Watch the eye-…”

“Shut up, John,” Gil interrupted, and took his wife onto the dance floor.

About an hour later, the President and his wife arrived and danced alone to “At Last,” while those who had struggled to bring this moment about watched and, in most cases, wept. The First Couple went from table to table, greeting old friends, thanking everyone for their support, sharing a reminiscence or a joke.

“There’s a story to tell our kids,” John said, after the President and his wife had moved on from their table.

“This whole thing,” Peggy added, waving her hand vaguely. “I hope somebody’s writing a book.”

Eliza glanced sideways at Alex, and Gil caught it.

“Are you, Alex?” he asked.

“Am I what?”

“Writing a book.”

“Well, let’s say I’m making notes. There will be a lot of books that come out of this.”

John grinned. “Yeah, but yours will be the only one that’s over a thousand pages.”

They laughed at that, and Peggy was reminded that the baby was kicking her bladder again, and she excused herself to go to the ladies’ room. She had to ask one of the servers where it was, and followed the directions down a long hall where the noise of the ballroom was muted. She saw the placard for the rest room and was admiring the heavy, carved wooden door when she felt a gush of warm liquid down her legs. For a second she thought the baby had pushed way too hard on her bladder, and then she realized what it was. She ducked quickly into the ladies’ room, trying not to panic, and realized that she was the only one there. How could that even be possible at such a huge event, but of course there must be multiple rest rooms in the building. With every step she took, she felt more fluid being released, so she tried to stand still, leaning on a sink for support. That’s what she was doing when the first real contraction came and made her gasp and clutch the white porcelain with both hands.

“It is _not_ supposed to happen this way!” she protested out loud. “The contractions are supposed to start small.”

She almost cried with relief when the door opened. The woman who came in was the brunet who had been sitting at TJ’s table, an old friend of John’s, thank God.

“You’re Beth Randolph, right?” Peggy said, startling her. “I’m Peggy. Can you please go tell John Laurens that my water broke and I need help right now?”

Beth nodded, wide-eyed, and dashed out of the room.

Gil was the first one there, of course, just in time for her to hold onto him through the next contraction. Eliza was right behind him. Alex had called 911, and was waiting for the ambulance at the front of the building, and John had gone to tell Frank Marion what had happened so they could clear security. Within minutes, a couple of EMT’s had a stretcher in the hall and were explaining that it wouldn’t fit through the door into the ladies’ room. Gil picked his wife up and laid her down gently on the stretcher. John and Angelica were in the hall, and Peggy tried to smile at them until another contraction came.

“How long?” Eliza asked Gil.

“Four minutes,” he told her. “Four fucking minutes.”

“You folks can follow in your cars,” one of the EMT’s said to Gil.

“We don’t have cars,” John tried to explain. “We came in limos.”

The EMT was saying something about taxis, and Peggy started to cry. “I want Gil and Eliza with me,” she wailed, all pretenses at dignity shredded.

“Then they go with you,” John said, and turned on his heel, yelling for Frank.

It took only one phone call from General Marion, the President’s Chief of Staff, and in very short order, the EMT’s, who had just been doing their jobs, realized that the pregnant lady was one of the Schuyler sisters and that the two people she wanted with her in the ambulance were another Schuyler sister and Lafayette. The angry guy with the long curly hair was Colonel John Laurens, the hot chick in bright cherry-red was yet another Schuyler sister, and the guy who had waved them in on the steps was no less than General Alexander fucking Hamilton, every single one of them a hero of the Insurrection. They made room for Gil and Eliza in the ambulance, and John, Angelica, Alex, Herc, and Burr followed in two police cars, sirens blaring, while ahead of the ambulance a police motorcycle escort cleared the way.

Peggy was clutching Gil’s hand for dear life as the ambulance took a corner just as a contraction hit. “It is _not_ supposed to be like this!” she yelled and then started crying again. “Eliza, my dress is ruined.”

“The dress doesn’t matter, _chérie,”_ Gil tried to tell her, but it didn’t help. Finally, Eliza said, “We’ll get the dress cleaned. Herc will know what to do,” and that seemed to make her feel better.

One of the EMT’s leaned back and said to Eliza, “You should get your sister’s jewelry. She won’t be allowed to wear it to the delivery room.”

“Right, of course,” Eliza responded, and leaned over. “Peggy, listen, I’m going to take your jewelry off to keep it safe, okay?”

Peggy was between contractions, so she was able to answer. “Go ahead, I look awful anyway.” Another contraction began and she turned to Gil, “Why isn’t it going the – goddam it! Fuck!”

“Breathe,” he said urgently. “Come on, breathe through it like we practiced.”

“I can’t,” she panted. “It’s not supposed to happen this fast.”

“You can. Slow breaths now, faster when the contraction comes. Okay? You with me?”

“Yeah. Gil, I’m scared.”

_“Sh, mon petit mouton, tout va bien.”_

“Okay. Now,” she gasped. He could feel her tense as the next contraction started.

“Breathe,” he told her again. “Breathe with me.”

She finally began the patterned breathing they had learned, breathed through the contraction, and was able to take a deep breath as it ended.

“You’re doing great, Peg,” Eliza said, kissing her forehead.

“We’re at the hospital,” the EMT announced as they pulled into the ambulance bay.

They were met by a young doctor, a couple of nurses, and some other people that Gil didn’t even try to identify. The doctor stuck out his hand. “Jay Sedikki,” he said. “I’m the obstetrician. Let’s get your wife into a cubicle.”

“Contractions are less than two minutes apart,” Gil said.

“In a hurry, huh, kid?” the doctor said to the baby – or at least to Peggy’s abdomen. “I’ll check her.” He turned and called over his shoulder to one of the nurses. “Call upstairs. We’ll need a delivery room.”

Another contraction had started, and Gil was breathing Peggy through it as they wheeled her into a curtained cubicle. As soon as it concluded, a nurse and Eliza got Peggy’s wet, soiled gown off and helped her into a clean hospital gown. The nurse took Peggy’s vitals while Eliza rolled up the ballgown and shoved it into a big plastic bag. A technician showed up with questions about insurance and medical history.

“Eliza,” Gil said, “can you get Alex to handle the paperwork?”

“Absolutely. I’ll go out to the waiting room and give them all a report and get Alex to deal with the details, and then I’ll be right back. I promise,” she added as Peggy reached for her hand.

They got through another contraction, Peggy a little calmer now, and the doctor came back in and did a quick exam. He smiled at Gil. “When did labor start?”

“An hour ago? Maybe?”

“Really? No contractions before that?” He looked at Peggy. “Any back pain?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “most of yesterday and today. It was pretty bad this afternoon.”

“I expect so,” Dr. Sedikki told her. “You’ve probably been in labor since yesterday afternoon. Sometimes women have back labor.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know it was labor?” Peggy asked him angrily, and then got even angrier as another contraction began. “Stupid fucking …”

“Breathe,” Gil told her, and she did her best to stay with him.

The contraction ended, and she tried to finish her thought to the doctor. “My back has hurt for the last three months. I’ve heard of back labor, but this just felt like the same backache I’ve been having.”

“It’s okay,” the doctor said. “You’re almost finished with labor anyway, so who cares how it progressed?”

“Really? Almost finished?”

“Yep. We’re about to head upstairs.”

Eliza came back in, wearing scrubs and a pair of non-slip hospital socks. “Angelica has all our stuff,” she said. “I borrowed an outfit.”

“Can Eliza come too?” Peggy asked anxiously.

“Sure. Your sister?”

“Yeah.”

An aide arrived and started pushing Peggy’s bed down the hall, Gil, Eliza, Dr. Sedikki, and a nurse keeping pace. They kept moving as another contraction came, but Peggy seemed calmer since the doctor had told her labor was almost over.

When the contraction ended, Dr. Sedikki turned to Eliza. “You’re the Schuyler sisters, right?”

“Two of them,” Eliza nodded.

He looked at Gil. “And you’re Lafayette?”

“Yeah.”

“The hero doctor of the Insurrection?”

“Well …”

“Whatever,” Dr. Sedikki continued. “You want to assist on this delivery?”

Gil grinned. “Fuck, yeah,” he said, sounding exactly like John.

Peggy and Eliza both actually laughed.

* * * * *

It was about three hours later before they let anyone into Peggy’s room. She was exhausted, and had slept a little, but she kept wanting to look at the baby again. He was perfect, with lots of black hair. Eight pounds, twelve ounces, twenty-one inches long. The nurse said he was tall for his age, which made them laugh because he was so tiny. Gil, wearing borrowed scrubs, his tux tossed somewhere on the floor, was holding him now, talking to him in French. It was Gil who had actually delivered him under Dr. Sedikki’s direction, who had held him first and then clamped and cut the cord, and he had barely let him out of his arms since then, only reluctantly handing him to Peggy so that he could nurse.

There was a tentative knock at the door, and Eliza looked in. “Are you up for company?” she asked. She had gone right from the delivery room to give everyone the news, and they had waited until they got the okay to come up to see the baby.

They all filed in now, still in their Inaugural Ball clothes, except for Eliza. They all looked tired too. Peggy had no idea what time it actually was, but they had been sitting in a hospital waiting room for hours. They surrounded the bed now, Alex hanging over Gil’s shoulder to get a good look at the baby, John kissing her forehead and brushing her hair back, Angelica and Eliza all teary-eyed. Peggy looked across the room at Burr, who was hanging back a little. “I wasn’t anything like as brave as Desi,” she confessed.

“You did great, though,” he told her, his voice tight. “Look at what you got.”

She nodded and then grabbed John’s hand, while Gil reached for Alex’s. She smiled at Gil and then said, “I would like you all to meet Alexander John duMotier, Chevalier de Lafayette.”

Gil held the baby up so that they could see him easily. “Look at my son.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, moving chapters around like this deletes all comments, so if you said anything before or would like to say anything now, I would appreciate very much hearing from you. Thanks so much for reading this!


	67. And When Our Children Tell Our Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanksgiving fourteen years later. Everyone gathers at Gil and Peggy's big house. Some things have changed, and some have stayed the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While there have been edits in other chapters, this epilogue remains unchanged. I wanted to answer some of the "What happens next?" questions, but also wanted to leave some things unresolved. I hope I found a happy medium, but there are some loose ends.  
> I don't even know how to say thank you to all of you who have read this whole thing -- which is literally twice as long as I expected it to be, and to those who have left kudos and written such lovely and thoughtful comments. In finishing this story, I feel as if I'm leaving a group of friends. In order to make myself feel better, I opened a tumblr account. It's daisy-rivers (original, huh?), so if you want to drop by, please do.   
> Some of you have asked questions about actual historical characters in this fic, and I've answered some of those in the comments section, but I'm going to try to identify everybody in the notes if you're interested. I've enjoyed the research for this story because I love history, & I've tried to use as many actual historical figures as possible. I'm starting the notes here and will finish in the end notes.  
> UNHISTORICAL NOTES: Alexander Hamilton & Eliza Schuyler Hamilton had 8 children. The oldest one was named Philip, but none were named Marlie or Lauren, & none of them looked like John Laurens. Lafayette & Margarita/Margaret Schuyler never had any children together, & I made up the names of Peggy and Gil's children in this story. President Blodman, Herc's mother & siblings, Grammy Nell, the Babacar family, & Delphine are entirely fictional characters. The character of Herc's actor boyfriend Jonathan may be based on a real person, but you can figure that out.  
> HISTORICAL NOTES: All the characters that appear in Lin-Manuel Miranda's "Hamilton" & in this story were actual historical characters at the time of the American Revolution. In addition, all the members of Tony's squad are based on historical characters. Tony is General "Mad Anthony" Wayne, whose daring in battle gave him his nickname. He fought in both the Battle of Brandywine (where Lafayette was wounded fairly seriously in the left calf) & the Battle of Monmouth, where his troops were abandoned & left undefended by the cowardly Charles Lee, who was later court-martialed for his actions. Molly Hayes is known in popular culture as Molly Pitcher. General John Sullivan ("Jack") served with General Wayne, & later did in fact become attorney general of New Hampshire, although as far as I know, he never dated Angelica Schuyler. James Wood ("Jamie") served with Sullivan. Joseph Lawrence & Elizabeth Burgin were associated with the Culper spy ring in New York. Benjamin Rush was a well-known physician in Philadelphia.

It was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, and, as usual, John was the first one to arrive. Katie, keeping watch from the upstairs window, yelled, “Uncle John’s here!”

Joey had been patiently waiting at the top of the stairs so that he could win the race to be the first one down, and he hurtled across the foyer and threw himself on John, knocking the wind out of him.

“Jeez, kid,” John gasped, “You trying to kill me?”

Joey just laughed and wrapped both arms and both legs around him. The rest of the kids were there by then, all of them trying to hug John and, not incidentally, see what was in the bags that he had hastily put down when Joey launched himself at him.

“Nothing for you guys in there,” John told them. “Stop poking around. Yo, Joey, you’ve got to get off me now.” He was trying to detach Joey when he heard plaintive sobbing coming from somewhere and he looked around and did a quick head count.

“Where’s Sky?” he asked. “Did you guys just leave her somewhere?” He managed to get Joey down on his own two feet and then yelled, “Peggy! Get out here!”

Peggy had been watching from the hall, giving the kids a chance before she got John’s attention, but she came into the foyer now and hugged him.

“Where’s Sky?” she demanded instantly, realizing her youngest was missing from the group. “Who’s supposed to be watching her?”

Angie put her hand up tentatively.

“Well?” Peggy queried.

“I didn’t know she was awake from her nap yet,” Angie explained.

“Go get her right now,” Peggy told her. “You know she can’t come down the stairs by herself.”

Since Sky was barely two, that wasn’t surprising. Angie started up the stairs, and Peggy whirled around. “AJ! Get your hands out of that bag right now.”

AJ looked over at John. “Dang! Eyes in the back of her head,” he sighed.

“Don’t tell me,” John said.

“Is there presents, though?” Joey asked.

Peggy put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Joseph Gilbert Motier, when has your Uncle John ever come here without a ton of presents for you ungrateful little monsters?”

Joey knew she wasn’t really mad. “Never,” he grinned.

“Well, then, stop asking.”

“Are we going to make pies tomorrow?” Libby asked.

“Of course we are,” John responded. “Can’t have Thanksgiving without pies.”

“Can I be on team blueberry?”

“Sure.” John looked over Libby’s head and smiled. “Aren’t the big kids going to give me a hug?” he asked.

Katie smiled at him. “Not a kid anymore, Uncle John. I just turned eighteen.”

He pulled her in for a hug with one arm, and Polly with the other. “I’m getting old,” he said.

“Never,” Katie told him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Guess what I got yesterday.”

“No guess, tell me.”

“Early acceptance to Penn!”

“All right! Congratulations!” John told her. “You and Polly will both be on campus. How’s the semester going?” he asked, turning to Polly.

“Good,” she said, “but Katie and I have an idea …”

“Okay, can we talk about that later?” Angie had come downstairs with Schuyler in her arms. Sky’s face lit up when she saw John, and he took her from Angie. “Hello, beautiful girl,” he said, and she patted his cheek. He gave her a kiss and turned to Peggy. “Gil still at work?”

She nodded. “And he’s on call tomorrow, so let’s hope there are no serious accidents around here.”

“Wasn’t he on call last year?”

“Yeah, the truth is, if something big happens, everybody’s on call, so it’s just something we deal with.” She held out her arms for her daughter, but Sky was having none of it. She shook her head and leaned into John’s neck. “You’re a baby whisperer,” Peggy said.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Go play, kids,” Peggy told the crowd “Uncle John and I are going to go have some tea and catch up. We’ve got Sky.”

Katie and Polly hung back. “Can we …” Polly started.

“Later,” Peggy said. “Give us half an hour. You know it will be fine.”

Polly shrugged and followed Katie upstairs.

“What’s up with them?” John asked, sitting down at the kitchen table with Sky on his lap.

“It’s no big deal. Polly wants to officially move out of the dorm and live here. Katie has no interest in living on campus next year, so it’s not a problem,” Peggy told him. “I told her it would be okay with you.”

“Sure, if they won’t drive you crazy.”

“Seriously, John, it’s not like they wouldn’t be here all the time anyway. You’re wasting money paying for the dorm.”

John laughed. “You undoubtedly have better food here.”

“Well, when Fatou is cooking. Otherwise, it’s pizza or scrambled eggs.”

“It’s a good thing I can cook,” John reminded her. “Otherwise, this family would be eating peanut butter and jelly for Thanksgiving.”

“True. Fortunately, Fatou left us dinner for tonight, and then tomorrow will be pizza. Are Alex and Eliza coming up tomorrow? Eliza said they might not be able to leave until Thanksgiving morning.”

“Eliza and the kids are driving up tomorrow,” John told her. “Alex is taking the train on Thursday morning because he has work to finish, as usual, and Eliza has threatened him with all kinds of retribution if he gets here any later than ten. Somebody will have to pick him up.”

“Well, that’s no problem,” Peggy said. “I remember when I thought four garages would be way more than we’d ever need, and now some days I feel like I’m running a public parking lot.”

“Does Katie like her car?” John asked.

“Loves it,” Peggy responded. “Of course, she and Polly were always coming and going in Polly’s car, so it hasn’t changed much, except that I think it’s probably made Polly’s life a little easier.”

“Are Marcy and Malik here yet?”

Peggy nodded. “They’re up talking to his parents now, so they should be back soon. I texted Marcy when you got here. Herc and Jonathan will be here tomorrow sometime. Jonathan’s not doing the evening show tomorrow, but they can’t leave till after the matinee, so they’ll probably miss the pizza, poor things.”

Herc’s boyfriend was an actor currently playing Will Scarlet in the hit Broadway musical _Sherwood_.

“And Angelica?”

“Sometime tomorrow – and brace yourself. She’s bringing a guy.”

John choked on his tea. “Really? You’re not kidding me?”

Peggy shook her head. “Cross my heart.”

Angelica had dated several guys since her relationship with Jack Sullivan had crashed and burned a year after President Akhdir’s first inauguration. Jack had become involved in New Hampshire politics and was now serving as the state’s attorney general. About ten years ago, he had married a nice girl named Lydia, and they were all polite to each other when Angelica ran into them at political functions. Since Angelica herself was now Lieutenant Governor of New York, that was pretty often.

For a while after she and Jack broke up, Angelica didn’t talk about anybody she was seeing. Then, a few years later, she ran into the Peale kids, who now had their own thriving PR firm, at some event and was introduced to their uncle Jim. Jim Peale was a successful portrait photographer who worked mostly with New York theater celebrities, but sometimes with politicians, so he and Angelica had friends in common, and they began to be seen together in public. Peggy and Gil had met him at occasional galas and fund-raisers, but Angelica never brought him to a family gathering. “I’m not introducing him to my family, and I’m not meeting his,” Angelica told Peggy, “at least not until we’re sure we’ve got something that may last.”

Peggy really thought for a while that Jim Peale might be the guy, but in the end, he and Angelica had gone their separate ways. There hadn’t really been anyone else, and, although she often saw Angelica with various distinguished-looking escorts, they were always identified as “just friends.”

“Wow,” John said now. “So it must be serious. Who is he?”

“John Barker Church. She calls him JB. He’s a banker, from London originally, but he lives in Manhattan now, quite a bit older than Angelica.” She stopped and frowned. “He doesn’t seem like a guy Angelica would date.”

“Can I remind you here that the guys Angelica has dated in the past have not resulted in happy relationships?”

“True.” Peggy sighed and stood up to get more tea, just as Marcy and Malik came in through the siting room and Marcy threw her arms around her big brother.

“Yay, pies!” she said. “Malik and I are on team pecan!”

“You haven’t seen me in weeks and your first thought is pies?” John asked, fake-shocked. “I’m hurt.”

“No, you’re not,” Marcy told him. “You know I love you. You’re my favorite big brother.”

“I’m your only big brother.”

Peggy grabbed a plastic container out of the pantry and put it on the table.

“Here,” she said, “have some cookies. Fatou made them yesterday, so they’re good. Hey, Marcy, would you make another pot of tea, please? I want to sit down.”

John’s eyebrows went up. “Are you …?”

“No!” Peggy snapped. “A person can be tired without being pregnant, you know.”

“Not around here,” John murmured just loudly enough for Malik to hear him. They started laughing, and Peggy turned around to glare at them.

Marcy just waved her hand in their direction. “They’re at it already, and you know it will get worse when Gil’s here. Hand me a cookie.”

“What time does Gil get home?” Malik asked. “I want to talk to him.”

Peggy shrugged. “Another hour maybe? Assuming nothing comes up.”

Trauma surgery was by definition a job without regular hours, so Gil might have to stay late or be called in at any time. He loved what he did, though. Alex had once suggested that he was an adrenaline junkie; it might be true that the excitement and urgency drove him, but he had the satisfaction of knowing he saved lives.

Peggy turned to say something to John and realized that Sky had a cookie in each hand and crumbs all over her face. John was telling her how adorable she was.

“That’s why you’re everybody’s favorite uncle,” she said. “Two cookies and lots of flattery.”

“It’s not flattery if she really is adorable,” John objected.

“She is pretty cute,” Peggy admitted, smiling at her youngest. “I think she looks like Katie did at that age.”

“Yeah, she does, especially the hair.”

Like Katie, Schuyler Margaret Motier had big brown eyes and crazy curls. She smiled at John and offered him a bite of soggy cookie.

“All of your kids are adorable,” Marcy declared.

“Thank you, Sweetie,” Peggy said. Marcy was like an extra sister, and she had always spent a lot of time at Peggy and Gil’s house, even though she actually lived in the Capital. That may have had something to do with the fact that Malik’s parents worked for the Motiers, and she got to see him when she came to visit. Marcy and Malik had been a couple for nearly half their lives, and everyone was expecting them to get married any day now, but they weren’t even officially engaged yet. Malik was a playwright, and some of his pieces had been produced at regional theaters, but he was currently working on a musical that had gotten some interest in New York. It was based on a book that Becky Jenkins had written about the experiences of the young runners in Philadelphia before and during the Second Insurrection. The family was keeping their fingers crossed that Malik and his musical collaborator, Francis “Hop” Hopkinson, would be able to get their show on stage.

“Burr said to tell you they’d be here sometime tomorrow, and that Harry is coming with them,” John said to Peggy. Harry had gotten his MBA a couple of years ago and was now working with Burr running Laurens Enterprises.

“Okay, good,” Peggy nodded. “Have you heard from James?”

John shook his head. “You haven’t either?”

“No, not yet. He’d call if he wasn’t coming, though, right?”

“Maybe he’s driving down with Angelica or Herc,” John suggested.

James was clerking for Judge Jay in New York. He visited often, and it wasn’t like him not to be in touch before a holiday.

“I’ve texted him and left voice mail,” Peggy said, “but I haven’t heard back.”

“Has Katie talked to him?” John asked. Katie, Polly, and James had all been playmates as small children, and had remained close.

“She says no,” Peggy replied cautiously.

John frowned. “You sound like you might not believe her.”

“Well …”

“What?”

Peggy drank some more tea and took a breath. “Did you ever think about Katie and James?”

John’s eyebrows went up. “Seriously? Katie and James?”

Peggy shrugged. “I don’t know. There was just something the last time he was down.”

“He’s nearly six years older than she is,” John pointed out, trying to get his head around the possibility.

“Yeah,” Peggy agreed, not bothering to remind John about her relationship with the twenty-two-year-old Marquis de Lafayette when she was younger than Katie.

“I say yes,” Marcy spoke up. “I’m pretty sure they at least like each other.”

“Well, yeah, they’ve always been friends,” John said.

Marcy rolled her eyes. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Katie’s still in high school,” Peggy began, and John and Marcy both gave her a “don’t even go there” look.

Peggy sighed. “Okay, yeah, I know. Do you think I should ask Katie?”

“No,” Marcy declared without hesitation. “She knows she can tell you things. She will if there’s anything to tell.”

“There was a time when I thought the parenting thing would get easier when the kids were older,” Peggy said.

“We grew up fast,” John reminded her. “When Alex and I were Katie’s age, he was running sabotage operations and I was forging ID’s. When you were eighteen, you’d been living with Gil for a year, and we were all at the cabin wondering where our next meal was coming from.”

Peggy nodded. “It just looks different to me because I’ve watched Katie grow up.”

“If it’s any help,” Marcy put in tentatively, “you guys did a great job of raising all of us. If Katie and James turn out to have something going on, you should probably just leave it alone.”

“Listen to her give advice,” John smiled. “She might actually know something. I mean, she’s finished college, she’s in a relationship with a really good guy, and we all love her, right?”

“Yeah,” Peggy agreed. “Gil tells me we have to trust ourselves.”

“Gil’s pretty smart,” John told her, just as Gil himself walked in from the garage.

“Why, thank you, John,” he said. “Any reason in particular, or just making conversation about me?”

He bent down to kiss Peggy, and then took Schuyler away from John to greet her also. She offered him the last bite of her very soggy cookie.

 _“Non, merci, ma fille,”_ he declined politely, then dropped a quick kiss on Marcy’s forehead, handed Sky back to John, and poured himself a cup of tea.

Peggy pushed the container of cookies toward him. “Fatou made them.”

He helped himself. “So who’s here already?” he asked.

“John and me and Malik,” Marcy volunteered.

“No one else yet?”

Peggy shook her head. “Everybody except Alex will be here tomorrow, and Alex will be here Thursday morning. Oh, and we don’t know about James.”

Gil raised an eyebrow. _“Pourquoi?_ ”

“Nobody’s heard from him,” Marcy said.

“Marcy thinks we should just leave the topic of him and Katie alone,” Peggy told him.

Gil didn’t say anything, but gave his wife a smile.

Peggy laughed. “Okay, fine,” she conceded. “Marcy and John both agree with you, so I’m just going to pretend I haven’t noticed a thing.”

She got up to get more tea, but Gil caught her around the waist and pulled her down onto his lap. _“Ne t’en fais pas, chérie. Tout ira bien.”_

John watched them kiss and grinned at Marcy. “There they go again,” he said.

* * * * *

Peggy had gotten all the kids to bed and had taken her shower before Gil came upstairs. She was relaxing in the sitting room reading.

 _“Ça va, chérie?”_ he asked, sitting down next to her.

She put her tablet on the table. “Mm,” she murmured, leaning her head on his shoulders. “I know we’re right to give Delphine and the Babacars plenty of holiday time off, but I admit that I really miss their help when they’re not here.”

Gil smiled. “We manage.”

“We do. The kids are great, and I honestly have nothing to complain about.”

He kissed her hair. “How lucky we are.”

“I know.” She thought back over the years. “Everything I ever wanted, _chéri,_ including all of us together at Thanksgiving.”

“And John cooking.”

She laughed. “Well, of course. Nobody would come to dinner if I did the cooking.”

“I didn’t marry you for your cooking skills,” he told her.

“Obviously.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, content to be together, and then he said, “Malik had a proposition for me.”

She sat up straight and looked at him. “Proposition?”

“Mm-hm. He needs some backing for his show.”

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s good.”

“So did you agree?”

“I said I would talk to you. I don’t make major decisions without consulting my wife.”

She laughed. “And I’m such an expert on Broadway musicals.”

“Well, neither am I, but I think Malik and Hop have put together an excellent work.”

They’d been to a reading of the show, and had heard all of the songs. “It’s really good,” Peggy agreed.

“Then you think it’s a good idea to invest?”

“Probably. How much were you thinking?”

“Maybe three million.”

Three million. It still sounded crazy to hear numbers like that casually thrown around as if it were Monopoly money.

“Okay.”

“John will probably put in another million,” Gil said.

“So if it’s a success, we’ll all get rich together.”

 _“Chérie_ , we are already rich,” he reminded her. “I wouldn’t invest money we couldn’t afford to lose.”

She smiled. “Of course you wouldn’t. Well, then, tell Malik that the show will go on.”

“In the morning,” Gil said. “I’m going to get a shower and take my beautiful wife to bed now.”

“That’s a good plan,” she told him as he got up.

“And I hope I can persuade her to lose those pajamas,” he continued, as he walked toward the bathroom.

She didn’t answer him, but he knew it wasn’t going to take any serious persuasion.

* * * * *

“I’ll trade you three kids for a cup of tea,” Eliza said, handing her coat to John.

“Do I have to take all three?” John asked, while the kids jumped on him.

It only took a couple of minutes before Philip went off to play video games with AJ, and Libby took Marlie upstairs to show her something. Only four-year-old Lauren wanted to stay, so John carried her out into the kitchen with them, telling her, “You have to be super-nice to Mommy, because I think she’s tired.”

“We were fighting in the car,” Lauren confessed.

“Mommy doesn’t like it when you guys fight,” John told her.

Lauren shook her head, her golden-brown curls bouncing. “Mommy was cranky,” she said.

Peggy handed Eliza a cup of tea, which she accepted gratefully. “Lauren is right,” she admitted. “Mommy is cranky and would like a nice grown-up conversation.”

“Maybe Lauren would like to watch a movie with Joey and Sky,” Peggy suggested.

Lauren nodded enthusiastically, and John took her off to find her cousins and set up a movie.

Eliza took a sip of tea and sighed, “Oh, listen to that lovely silence.”

Peggy put some of Fatou’s cookies on the table and Eliza took one. “When does the pie-making start?” she asked.

“I think anytime now that you’re here, but relax first. John will deal with the pie-making.”

“Only one of the reasons why I love him,” Eliza said, kicking off her shoes. “What time is Angelica getting here?”

“Late afternoon, I think,” Peggy told her. “I don’t think she’s particularly interested in pie-making.”

Eliza swallowed her cookie and took another sip of tea. “Should we take this JB guy seriously?”

Peggy shrugged. “It’s serious enough that she’s bringing him to Thanksgiving dinner.”

“He'd better be nice.”

Gil came in from the sitting room and gave Eliza a quick hug and kiss. “Well,” he said to Peggy, “we are now officially Broadway investors.”

“Malik’s show?” Eliza asked. “John called last night to talk to Alex and me about it, so it looks like we’re in too. Let’s hope it’s a success.”

“I’d love to see that happen,” Peggy said. “I’ve been wondering if that’s what Malik is waiting for. I think he might feel that he needs to establish himself in some way before he proposes to Marcy.”

Eliza winced. “Peg, it’s not 1955. Establish himself? Really?”

Peggy looked at Gil for support. “Eliza’s right,” he said. “Anyway, how do you know he didn’t propose to Marcy years ago?”

“She would have told me!” Peggy insisted.

Marcy and Malik themselves came in just then, so the conversation was suspended at least temporarily. A few minutes later John came downstairs, trailing children behind him, and announced that it was time to start on the pies, so everyone who wasn’t participating should get out of the kitchen. Gil, Peggy, and Eliza adjourned to the main living room, but had barely had a chance to sit down before Burr arrived with Teddie and Harry. Teddie dashed off to bake pies, and Harry announced that at twenty-five he was too old for pie team competitions, only to be dragged to the kitchen by Marcy and Malik.

Burr sat down in the living room, and Peggy made more tea, grateful, not for the first time, for the roomy butler’s pantry. There were more cookies, too, thanks to Fatou’s preparations.

“Do you know when James is coming?” Peggy asked Burr casually.

Burr shook his head. “Harry didn’t mention it.”

Peggy looked at Gil, feeling as if she should do something, but he just shrugged. She’d already tried to text James and left him messages, anyway, so there really wasn’t much else to do.

The pies were baked and discussions about pizza toppings were underway when Angelica and JB arrived, Angelica with her usual collection of enormous suitcases. “What does she even have in them, her own furniture?” John whispered to Peggy, who had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Angelica introduced JB to everyone, and he made an effort to exchange at least a few words with each introduction. The pizza order was compiled, and Marcy and Malik went to pick it up.

JB had the advantage of them, because of course he had heard of them all, and was familiar with John’s work. John did a lot of commission work these days, but had also done the illustrations for Becky Jenkins’s book about the runners, and JB was asking him about it. He also talked to Burr about business and to Eliza about law and her job as the director of the non-profit Philip and Catherine Schuyler Foundation. He didn’t seem to have the background to discuss medicine with Gil, so he talked to him and Peggy about their house, admiring the architecture and the interior.

Herc and Jonathan got there not long after the pizza, so Herc was able to answer more questions about the house than Gil or Peggy could. While JB was chatting with everybody, Angelica had her own conversations, but she followed him with her eyes and seemed, for Angelica at least, to be a little nervous.

“He seems like a good guy,” Peggy said to Gil when she had a moment and nobody else was listening.

Gil nodded, but didn’t have a chance to answer. All of the kids were in the room now, at least one or two of them climbing on John, and all of them trying to talk to the late arrivals.

“So how’s school going, Miss Angela Veronica?” Herc asked Angie, and she rolled her eyes at him.

“You know it’s Angèle Véronique, Uncle Herc,” Angie retorted, smiling.

“You’re lucky, you know,” Herc told her in what was obviously an old joke. “It could have been Herculetta, but I stopped them.”

The real story was that when Gil and Peggy’s first daughter was born, Gil had said to Herc, “We’re naming her Angèle, for Angelica, but we’d like her middle name to honor you, so we thought we would use your mother’s name.”

At the time, Herc had been moved to tears, but the way he told the story was that he had said to Gil, “Veronica is fine, because you are not naming that baby girl Herculetta or some dumb shit like that.”

Angie had always found the story hilarious, and every once in a while somebody in the family would call her Herculetta, but she really didn’t mind. She adored Herc and had already decided that she would be an interior designer like him.

“What time is Alex coming in tomorrow?” Peggy asked Eliza right before they went up to bed.

“His train’s due in at nine-fifty,” Eliza said, “and I told him that if he misses it, not to bother coming at all.”

“Eliza!”

Eliza shrugged. “Well, I also told him that if he missed the train, he should have all of his stuff moved out of the house before I got home, so he may have concluded that I wasn’t completely serious. You know Alex, though. The speech has to be perfect even if he has to rewrite it fifty times. There just aren’t enough hours in the day for him.”

“What’s Crazy Tony’s speech on this time?” Gil asked.

“Sustaining National Park forests. Alex’s staff spent the week researching trees.”

“And some people think government work is dull,” Peggy commented. “How are Tony and Molly and the kids?”

“They’re good,” Eliza said. “We saw them at a dinner last week, and they send their love.”

“Remember how, when President Akhdir was elected, I wanted so much to go to the Inaugural Ball because I thought I might never get another chance?” Peggy asking, reminiscing. “Who would have imagined that Crazy Tony Wayne would be President?”

“They don’t call him Crazy Tony around the office,” Eliza told her, smiling. “It makes the staff nervous.”

“Ha! Good point! Anyway, who’s going to pick Alex up at Thirtieth Street tomorrow morning at ten?” Peggy asked, looking randomly around the room.

“Polly and I are!” Katie assured her hastily.

“Are you sure? Parking’s going to be a mess.”

“If it is, I’ll just let Polly out to find Uncle Alex and circle the station,” Katie responded.

“Okay, then. Don’t oversleep.”

Katie rolled her eyes and said, “Mo-om!” giving the word a few extra syllables.

* * * * *

“Don’t worry about Katie,” Gil said. Peggy was curled against him, her back to his front, her head resting on his arm. He kissed the back of her neck, and she sighed.

“That feels nice,” she murmured.

“Mm. That’s why I do it.”

“You think Katie and James will be okay?”

 _“Chais pas, chérie,_ I just know we have to let them find their own way.”

She turned toward him and traced his face with her finger, then slid her hand into his curls and pulled him down for a kiss. His arm tightened around her, and he put his other arm around her waist and slipped his hand into her pajama pants. She caught her breath and pushed closer to him. He began kissing her neck, pulling her pants down as he did. She helped him a little, and when they got to her knees, she kicked them off.

“And now the top,” he said, propping himself up on his elbow and smiling at her.

“Are you going to help me?” she asked.

“Maybe. _Disons_ , I’m going to motivate you.” He slipped his hand inside her shirt and began to play with her breasts, lightly and gently, just enough to make her want more. She sighed again, and made little humming noises, trying to push closer to his hand. He cupped one breast and ran his thumb over the nipple, grazing it.

“I would like to have that in my mouth,” he whispered.

“Please.”

“But I can’t. Your shirt is in the way.”

“Damn you, Gil,” she said, laughing, and she pulled her shirt off.

“I always win this argument, don’t I?” he reminded her.

* * * * *

Thanksgiving morning breakfast was always donuts, and the supposed rule was that whoever was up first went to get them. The reality was that it was always either Gil or John who made the early bakery run. This year it was John, which delighted the kids because he was as fond of sprinkles as they were, and he got enough with sprinkles that everybody could have two and there was no squabbling.

“Please save at least two donuts for Alex,” Eliza implored, “or he won’t be fit to live with.”

“What kind?” Peggy asked, poking around in one of the boxes.

“Whatever kind has the highest sugar content, of course,” Eliza said.

“Okay, one strawberry jelly with pink frosting and sprinkles, and one double chocolate with chocolate icing and sprinkles.” Peggy wrinkled her nose at the two she picked out, but put them aside for Alex. She was having a plain glazed.

“Let’s go, guys,” John was saying. “Herc and I need to get dinner started. Who’s helping?”

“Big kids help cook, middle-sized kids set the table, little kids stay out of the way,” Herc reminded them. “That means Joey, Lauren, and Sky need a movie.”

“I’m on that,” Marcy said.

“Katie, Polly, and Teddie are helping cook,” Herc went on.

“Polly and I are picking up Uncle Alex at the station,” Katie reminded him.

“Damn, of course it’s Alex’s fault. Okay, but we need you as soon as you get back. AJ, you’ve just been promoted to big kid.”

“Cool!” AJ said, his mouth full of donut.

“Angie, Libby, Philip, and Marlie, you guys are setting the table. Malik, you supervising?”

“Yep. Napkin folding 101 begins in thirty minutes.”

“Malik, are you eating dinner here or with your parents?” Peggy asked. The Babacars always did their own Thanksgiving with friends, but Malik had gone back and forth between the two households over the years.

“Here, but my parents are coming down for dessert.” That was another tradition that had been going on for a while. Delphine was spending the holiday weekend with her sister in Cleveland, but she too usually joined the family, at least for dessert.

John finally shoved everybody out of the kitchen, and started directing Teddie and AJ. Malik corralled the four kids assigned to him and took them to the dining room to set the enormous dining table that Gil had had custom made a couple of years after they moved in. Everyone else went into the living room, and a few minutes later Katie and Polly put on their coats to go get Alex at the station.

“Now we get to relax while John and Herc do all the cooking,” Angelica explained to JB.

“Is that part of your tradition?” he asked, smiling.

“Well, I don’t know how much is tradition and how much is due to none of the rest of us being able to cook,” Eliza told him.

“I’m lucky to have help,” Peggy added. “Fatou is a wonderful cook, but of course she has the holidays off, just like we do.”

“That’s interesting,” JB said seriously. “You don’t cook well yourself – and neither does your husband, I take it?” Gil just laughed at that. “Yet you give your cook the holidays off?”

“Yes, of course,” Peggy responded. “She has a family of her own, and there are any number of ways that I could manage dinner for my family if I had to.”

JB nodded thoughtfully. “Not everyone is so considerate of their employees.”

It might be just as well that Alex wasn’t there yet, Peggy thought. If somebody got him started on employees’ rights, he could hold forth for hours. She just smiled at JB and asked if he wanted more coffee.

It took Malik and his team about an hour to get the table set, and then he and Marcy joined everybody else. “Middle-sized kids are watching movies with little kids,” Malik announced.

“What are they watching?” Eliza asked.

“ _Moana_ right now,” Marcy told her. “ _The Lion King_ is next and then I don’t even know, but it’s all Disney. Oh, and Sky is asleep on the floor on her blanket, so I just left her there, and told Libby to come get one of us when she woke up.”

“I love you, Marcy,” Peggy declared. “You are the most efficient person I’ve ever met.”

“Love you too!” Marcy echoed, waving at her from across the room.

“Hey, we’re back,” came Katie’s voice from the garage door. “Look who we found at the station.”

Peggy looked up, expecting, of course, to see Alex, but Katie was standing in the doorway with James, and both of them were smiling. Peggy’s stomach did a very small flip, but she got up and gave James a big hug. “You did get Alex, though, right?”

Katie nodded. “Yeah, James came up with him.”

“You were in the Capital?” Eliza asked.

“Just since yesterday.” James didn’t offer any further explanation, and nobody asked.

“Where’s Alex, then?” Gil inquired.

“In the kitchen. Uncle John said there were donuts for him.”

Eliza shook her head. “Donuts and John. He’ll be there for hours, so I guess I’d better go say hello.”

They all heard Alex yell “Eliiiza!” when she got to the kitchen.

“Sounds like he’s had caffeine,” Burr murmured.

“He did have a few cups of coffee on the train,” James confirmed.

“He’ll be okay,” Gil said to Peggy. “He’s going to have a big dinner.”

Malik looked over at Marcy. “Why don’t we get the stuff out of the car now so we can show it to everybody?”

“A model of the set,” Marcy told Peggy over her shoulder. “Wait till you see it.”

It took them longer than it should have, and when they came back from the garage, there was a lot of noise in the kitchen. When they ran into the living room, they were holding hands, and they didn’t have the stage model. Also, Marcy was definitely crying.

Peggy was alarmed for a second, but then realized Marcy was smiling, and that the tears she was crying were happy tears.

“We’re engaged!” Marcy announced. She held up her hand. “I think I’m the first girl to have an engagement bracelet.”

Back when they were fifteen, Malik had given her a charm with the date of their first dance. Over time, he had added other charms – first date, first kiss, and so on, to first apartment and first vacation. He had always told her that one day, he’d give her the charm bracelet to put them on. Now she was wearing it. All the charms were attached, and the final one said “Got engaged,” with today’s date on it.

“Did he kneel down?” Polly asked.

“Of course!”

“The fact that you already had the charm engraved shows you were quite confident of her answer,” Gil commented.

Malik put his arm around Marcy and pulled her close. “Well, I kind of though she liked me,” he grinned.

There were hugs and kisses from everyone, and then they ran off to tell Malik’s parents.

“That’s the best kind of engagement,” Gil commented.

“What do you mean?” Angelica asked.

“Nobody is surprised and everybody is happy.”

A few hours later, the big dinner was set out on the table, and they all gathered around it, the smallest children near their parents, the older ones with their cousins. James sat between Katie and Polly, and they seemed happy with that arrangement. Alex had had more coffee and was talking non-stop to anybody who would listen. Peggy thought that JB was looking a little dazed, but he was holding his own. Angelica had been remarkably calm for the entire visit; maybe JB really was good for her. John had convinced Gil to do the hand-holding thing when they said grace, and Gil always said the same grace. By now, most of them knew it and joined in.

 _“Apprends-moi, Seigneur, à dire merci…_  
_Merci pour le pain, le vent, la terre et l'eau._  
_Merci pour la musique et pour le silence._  
_Merci pour le miracle de chaque nouveau jour._  
_Merci pour les gestes et les mots de tendresse._  
_Merci pour les rires et les sourires._  
_Merci pour tout ce qui m'aide à vivre malgré les souffrances et les détresses._  
_Merci pour tous ceux que j'aime et qui m’aiment. Amen.”_

Once grace was done, they started passing plates, and the noise level rose. Peggy was cutting up Sky’s dinner, and Marcy was supervising Joey’s insistence that he could do everything himself. Peggy glanced over at Katie and James, trying to figure out what, if anything, was going on.

“They’re fine,” Marcy told her.

“Am I being obvious?” Peggy asked.

“Mm-hm.”

“Okay, here, have some green beans.” She looked down the table. These were all the people she loved most in the world, enjoying dinner together, all safe and well and happy. It would be ridiculous to invent things to worry about. She looked down just in time to see Sky wipe her sticky hands in her hair, and to try to undo as much of the damage as possible with a napkin. It wasn’t long before the big kids, including Katie, Polly, James, and Harry, were clearing the table, and John and Herc were bringing in the pies. Fatou and Oumar joined them, and everyone was ready for dessert.

There was a great deal of complicated discussion about who wanted which kind of pie, and whether it should be plain or with ice cream or with whipped cream. Eliza was trying to keep the orders straight while John and Herc served the pies, but Alex wanted a piece of apple pie with ice cream and a piece of pumpkin pie with whipped cream, but not on the same plate, and even Eliza was perplexed at that.

“What?” Alex asked, pretending to be hurt. “I can’t have two pieces of pie?”

‘You can have an entire fucking pie,” John told him, “but you’re going to have to wait till the end because yours is a special custom order.”

“I can really have an entire pie?” Alex inquired, looking hopeful.

“Please give him some pie so he’ll shut up,” Gil requested.

“Pie will not silence me!” Alex declared.

“Nothing on God’s green earth will silence you,” Herc muttered, but he was trying not to laugh.

“Here,” John said, shoving a plate at Alex. “Here’s your apple pie with ice cream. You’ll get the pumpkin later. On a separate plate, as requested.”

Alex looked down at the apple pie sadly. “But part of the fun is eating them in alternate bites,” he explained. “It’s a taste adventure.”

Angelica, who had mostly been quiet, reached across the table and snatched the plate of pie away. She calmly picked up her fork and began eating it. “Oh, this is good pie,” she mumbled through the crumbs.

Alex was still staring at her, outraged. “Angelica’s eating my pie!” he yelled.

Herc glanced over at Angelica. “Not your pie anymore,” he told Alex.

Herc and John just kept slicing and serving pie. Peggy watched JB to see how he was reacting to Angelica’s antics. He was smiling, and seemed to understand that this was perfectly normal behavior for Angelica and Alex.

Alex still had his fork in his hand. “I will get my revenge, Angelica,” he said darkly. “When you run for governor, I will write speeches for your opponent. Really good speeches.”

“No, you won’t,” Angelica grinned, licking the last crumb off her fork. “You’re married to my sister, and anyway, you love me.”

Alex finally couldn’t keep a straight face. “Okay,” he said, “no writing for your opponent, but next time you come to visit, there may be a frog in your bed.”

Angelica considered. “The pie was worth it.”

JB laughed out loud. Thirty seconds later, Gil’s phone went off with the siren that was his work ringtone. He took the call in the other room, then came back with apologies and a kiss for Peggy.

“I’ll be back when I can,” he told her, and was out the door.

* * * * *

It was around two in the morning when he got home. Peggy was asleep, but she woke when he came in, as she always did.

“You okay?” she asked. She knew the question was the equivalent of _Did the patient survive?_

“Yeah. Sixteen year old kid, no seat belt. He’s really lucky.”

“He probably had a good surgeon.”

Gil smiled wearily. “Let’s hope. He’ll survive, anyway, and maybe become an advocate for safety.” He threw his clothes on the floor and climbed into bed, pulling her close.

“Your feet are cold!” she told him.

“They’ll get warm,” he responded, wrapping his legs around her. He kissed the back of her neck. “My lovely girl. _Mon cher petit mouton.”_

She tried to turn toward him so that she could kiss him, but he held her in place. “Don’t move until I get warm,” he murmured.

She compromised by reaching back and playing with his hair. “A good Thanksgiving, I think,” she said.

“Mm-hm.”

“JB seems okay, doesn’t he?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Are you too tired to talk?”

He relaxed his hold enough for her to turn and see his face. She put her hand on his cheek and looked at him. There was just enough light that she could see it reflected in his eyes. “I love you so much,” she told him.

He kissed her. _“Je t’aime, ma chérie. Je t’aimerai toujours._ How lucky we are.”

“I was thinking,” she said.

“About …?”

“We have three girls and two boys.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Maybe we should try to even up the numbers.”

She felt more than saw him smile. “We could have another girl, you know,” he pointed out.

“Mm-hm, I know, but I don’t think we will.”

“And we will love whatever child we have, so it’s fine either way.”

“Of course. We always said we would know when we were done, and – I just don’t feel like our family is complete yet.”

“You know this makes me very happy, don’t you?”

“Mm-hm.” She moved closer and put her head on his shoulder, and he kissed her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ethan Allen led the Green Mountain Boys in Vermont during the American Revolution. Seth Warner & Matthew Lyon were part of this group. Nathaniel Pendleton was a friend of Alexander Hamilton's in New York City, & in fact served as his second in the fatal duel. John Taylor was a professor at Rutgers (then called Queen's College) who left his position to fight in the Continental Army. Benjamin Contee, Walter Bowie, & Edmund Randolph ("Ned") were American patriots from Maryland & Virginia. Edmund Randolph married a girl named Elizabeth Nicholas ("Beth") whom he met when they were young children. General Francis Marion ("Frank"), the Swamp Fox, deserves a special mention. He & his troops hid out in the swamps of South Carolina & waged guerilla warfare against the British. Captain Peter Horry was his second in command. Both Luke Prior & an escaped slave named Oscar were part of his band. Samuel Watson, Jacob Ziegler, Adam Hubley, David Coleman, William Jenkins, Hugh Mackey, & Roger Stayner were all members of the Pennsylvania Militia. Crispin, Cuthbert, McCall & Warner were common surnames in colonial Philadelphia.  
> Judge Edward Shippen IV of Philadelphia was not the villain I made him out to be, but his son-in-law Benedict Arnold definitely was. Arnold married Shippen's youngest daughter Margaret, who was called Peggy; I refer to her as Meg for obvious reasons. There were three other Shippen daughters, one of whom, Sarah, I called Sadie & made into a horrible person. I have no reason to believe she was guilty of anything. John André ("André Johns") was a British spy who worked with Arnold & was caught and hanged.  
> David Hall was a publisher in Philadelphia who was for a time in business with Benjamin Franklin.  
> Francis Hopkinson was a signer of the Declaration of Independence & a musician who promoted music education.  
> Charles Willson Peale was a very well-known artist in the Philadelphia area. He painted portraits of George Washington, among others. His works can still be seen at the Philadelphia Art Museum. His brother James was best known as a miniaturist. He had many children, including Rafaelle ("Rafe"), Sophonisba ("Sophie"), & Rembrandt ("Brant") who were artists as well.  
> John Jay was the first Chief Justice of the US Supreme Court. He was from New York.  
> Dr. Barron is based on Baron Friedrich von Steuben, a Prussian immigrant (they get the job done) who worked closely with Washington to train the Continental troops.  
> General Zain Akhdir is based loosely on General Nathanael Greene, a highly respected general in the Continental Army. Akhdir is Arabic for green (the color), my own personal poke-in-the-eye to the immigrant haters.  
> As far as anyone knows, Henry Laurens & his son John had a good father-son relationship. On the other hand, Henry was a partner in the biggest slave-trading company in North America & John was an avid abolitionist, so there's the potential for conflict.  
> Martha Laurens ("Marcy") married a guy named David Ramsay, had 11 kids in 16 years, and died at the age of 51. I wanted to give Marcy a happier life.  
> Henry Laurens, Jr. ("Harry") died at the age of 58. I was unable to find any more information on him.  
> James Laurens died at the age of 10, I believe from a fall.  
> Mary Eleanor Laurens was actually called Polly by her family. She married Charles Pinckney when she was 18, had three children, & died at the age of 24.  
> I was happy to leave the reality of early death in the eighteenth century & plan long lives for my characters.  
> I have loved every minute of writing this story, even when it made me crazy researching things like bomb components (hope the NSA isn't checking my search history). The best part, by far, has been hearing from my readers and having you tell me that what I've written has meant something to you, that I have managed to touch you in some way with these words. You are an amazing, interesting, and thoughtful group of people. I'd love to have you all over for tea.  
> In the meantime, I will check in on tumblr (daisy-rivers), although I am still trying to figure tumblr out. Thank you all so, so much for making my first fanfiction writing experience so much fun.  
> Sadly, moving chapters around deletes all comments, so if you said anything before or would like to say anything now, I would appreciate very much hearing from you. Thanks so much for reading this!  
> Lots and lots of love to you all,  
> Daisy


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